#much more bugs and now you could even smell the mold from outside the house.

[kil9]

man.... got out of my shitty old job got out of my shitty old house.... I think I am unstoppable

[raindownforme]

Hey! I don’t mean to bug but I have another Ted idea in mind, i wanted to send it in before I forgot it.

Basically reader and Ted are sort of rivals and try to out do each other in everything. Reader thinks Ted despises her with all of his snarky/witty comments and the staring he does when they’re in class. The reader is awfully confused when Ted knocks on their bedroom window asking her to sneak out and drive to the next city over and stay with him for the weekend. The reader is even more confused when she finds herself wanting to go and packing a backpack. She/her pronouns (This is a weird one and I completely understand if it’s out of your comfort zone, I just thought it’d be a cool coming of age rivals to lovers story) :)

Mean

Ted Nivison x reader [she/her used]

y/n silently opened the door to the empty classroom. She knew she was late. Everyone knew she was late.

“You’re late.” Ted rummaged his hand around in his backpack, clearly searching for something.

“Gee thanks. I’m excused.” y/n set her bag down in a corner and turned towards the teenage boy. “Why aren’t you out there.”

“Because I get a script.” Ted flashed the stack of papers, waving them smugly before closing his bag. “Where’s your script?”

“Memorized.” She grabbed her water bottle and went onto the stage. She stood silently in the wings, waiting for a familiar cue to be called. Looking over to her left, she watched a group of freshman girls giggling in a circle, quite obviously fawning over Ted. She gestured at them to be quiet, and they did for a moment, but they soon went back to their antics.

“Off-book date isn’t for another three weeks. Little bit of a try-hard are you?”

“Maybe I’m just better.” Ted shifted his weight on his feet. He stood close to her, flipping through the pages in his script. She turned to him, pointing out where they were on the page.

“A know-it-all too then?”

“Forgive me for being nice to you.” She rolled her eyes as she side-stepped away from him.

“Oh never. I’m going to remember this for the rest of your life. How you just had to know what page it is.”

“Jesus. Fuck off would you?” y/n left Ted backstage, entering the ongoing scene with open arms.

———

The stage was quiet. By now everything was winding down. Underclassmen were waiting for their rides while upperclassmen discussed where to go for dinner. Techies were shutting down all the set pieces and electronics. Actors were putting away supplies. y/n was standing center stage. The soundtrack echoed through her head she hummed, pivoting on her feet. Today they had gone over some major choreography for the show, and she knew it better to practice now rather than forget later.

She ended her choreography, spinning with her arms upwards. She then let them fall down to her side, relaxing her entire body in the process.

“Need some help there?” Ted’s voice echoed through the almost empty space. y/n groaned, not turning to him.

“I’m doing just fine. Thanks.” She walked to the edge of stage right, grabbing her water bottle and bag from where it resided. “Don’t you have a curfew?”

“Don’t you?” Ted watched her walk upstage towards the green room. “I think you’re finally nailing that box step. I mean, it’s been what, three years?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Ted.”

“Oh don’t leave me hanging.” Ted followed after her, walking all the way to the door that lead outside of the school. “You giving up already?"

She turned back to him, holding the door open with one hand. “I’m not in the mood tonight, Ted, so good night.” y/n slammed the school door shut, leaving Ted alone in the echoing hallway.

———

y/n was still awake. She’d been up for a while now, going over her musical score, making sure every note change and accidental was circled. There were countless pages it seemed, her being cast as a main character, but it was nearing three AM and she was finally done.

She shut her script, stretching her shoulders as she stood from the desk chair. She meant to reach upwards to dim her lamp light, but paused as she heard a knock on her window. y/n thought it was a fluke, a tree scratching at the wall, but then it happened again. Three times in succession, definitely intentional.

y/n threw open the blinds. In the window she could see a lone stick being held up by a very short Ted.

“Hello?” She opened the window, poking out her head. Ted was indeed there. Her window stood six feet above the ground outside, and Ted’s extreme height poked just above that.

“Hey!” He smiled, which she found almost unusual, but she liked it. He dropped the stick he had been holding and looked up to her. She took note of the fact that he was fully dressed, even though it was an early Saturday morning. She could smell the dew in the air and the cologne on the hoodie Ted wore. She revelled in it for a moment, allowing herself only that moment. “I didn’t catch you at a bad time did I?”

“N-No. I mean, I wasn’t doing much. How do you know where I live?”

“Come with me. Right now.”

“Where?” y/n drew back a bit, confused by Ted’s sudden change of pace.

“The waterfront. Downtown. Please?”

“Ted I-“ y/n looked back into her room. She could pack a quick bag if she really wanted to. She could be gone and back at any time if she really wanted to. “Why?”

“Because. I want to go and you’re who I want to go with me.” Ted extended his hand towards her. “I’m parked across the street.”

y/n sighed, closing her eyes for a second. “Give me two minutes.” She turned back into her room, almost panicking. She threw on a pair of sweat pants and her sneakers, keeping on her comfortable t-shirt. She grabbed an empty backpack and began stuffing it with an extra pair of clothes, a phone charger, her house keys, and travel toiletries. She turned back to her window. Ted stood there expectantly. She tossed the bag to him, and he caught it with ease, throwing it over his shoulder. Next our the window was her, which didn’t come as easy. She started by sitting on the ledge, swinging her legs as she looked at the jump. Thankfully, on her way down, she landed on her feet in the grass. Ted smiled at her, leading the way to his car.

y/n shut the door after herself, inhaling the cold morning air. “We could go to the greenway. I mean the carousel won’t be open but everything else."

y/n nodded as Ted started up his car. It hummed as they drove through the neighborhoods and the freeway, landing them in the middle of downtown. She gazed out the window at the tall cement offices and shops. Ted took her down a series of main roads that gradually became smaller. y/n turned to him, watching the street lights reflect on his glasses.

“Ted, where are we going?”

“The water front! We’ll be there in a second.” Ted followed the paved roads a few minutes longer until pulling aside near a park. “Come on."

Ted hopped out of the truck, not walking towards the meter to pay for parking. He went to open y/n’s door for her, startling the girl. The two walked for a moment, ending up at a rail that over looked the river. “Ted this is-“

“Is there something wrong?” The street lamps danced in the waves of the harbor as they lapped against the brick retaining wall. She looked up to Ted and could see the lights reflect in the lenses of his glasses. Behind that, she could see the worry laced across his face.

“No. I just- I thought you hated me, and this? This is not hateful.”

“Oh.” Ted rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. y/n didn’t notice, instead focusing on not shivering. “Are you cold?”

“I mean yeah. Aren’t you?”

“No but- here take it.” He pulled off his hoodie to drape over y/n’s shoulders. She slowly put on the item, taking in the way it fit just loosely enough.

“Thanks. For not- y’a know- bein’ an asshole.”

“Right.” The silence between the two was uncomfortable as they stared out into the water. “I should’ve been nicer to you. Just- in general. I should’ve.”

“I could’ve been nicer to you, too. I mean, where’s the fun in that though?” She smiled, leaning over the railing of the waterfront. She let herself dangle for a moment, smiling as came back up.

“I could keep being nice to you.” Ted moved a step closer to her, the darkness barely hiding the blush growing across his face.

“Why?”

“I like being nice to you. I like-“ Ted paused, considering what he was trying to say. “Do you hate me?”

y/n whipped her head to the side, looking confusedly at Ted. “No. Ted I never hated you. I thought you hated me!”

“No never I-“ he sucked in a shaky breath. “I like you. A lot. Like, a lot. And I’m sorry I never told you I just- it was so easy to act like you didn’t like me and that you hated me but I- I’m sorry.”

y/n took Ted’s hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. “I wanted to hate you. I really did.”

“I mean, I’m glad you don’t because really like you. Like I can’t emphasize it enough.”

“We’ll good cause I like you too.”

“Really? No wait really?” Ted turned away form the water towards her, a smile almost splitting his face in half. “Can I-“

“Yes.” She placed her hands on his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Ted kissed her almost roughly, pulling her closer every second. y/n smiled against him, feeling his glasses ouch against her eyebrows and the way his cheek molded against her hand.

Ted pulled away slightly, taking a quick breath. “Wow. That was- wow. You’re- wow.”

y/n laughed. “You got words there?”

“Whatever smart-ass.” He went to kiss her again, this one being shorter. “Where to next?”

“Anywhere.” She smiled, looking back towards the sleeping city beside them. “Take me anywhere.”

[collecting-stories]

Birthday - c. 13 - Georgia

Summary: Just a whole lot of feelings.

A/N: Sorry I didn’t post when I said I was going to, thank you guys for your patience though! Also, if you haven’t seen it, there’s a link on my page to help raise money for a friend of mine to get bottom surgery, if you wouldn’t mind taking a look and considering donating or reblogging to get out the word. 

Georgia Masterlist | The Walking Dead Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“Not who I expected to see waiting outside the pharmacy for me but, I’ll take it.” Tara called out as she walked across the small parking lot to her car. Parked right next to her four-door was Daryl’s truck and he was standing there waiting, leaning against the tailgate.  

“I haven’t heard from her in a couple days, just wanted to be sure she’s alright.” Daryl replied.  

“You mean after you told her you didn’t want to date her?” Tara asked, crossing her arms over her chest.  

“Ain’t that simple.”  

Tara groaned, already exhausted with both of you. “It is that simple, she really likes you and come on, I know you like her. You fucking stopped at the drug store to talk to me because you’re concerned about her. That’s pretty solid proof that you like her too.”  

Daryl looked away, scuffing his foot on the ground and taking his pack of cigarettes out to smoke, he needed something distract himself.  

“Can I have one?” Tara asked, already holding out her hand for one of his cigarettes. Her sister would probably kill her if she knew but Tara smoked occasionally, more recreational than anything else. “She’s staying at my house in Woodbury. Her dad’s supposed to be home soon, think she’s just waiting it out away from her mom.”  

“He any better?” Daryl asked lighting his and then holding the lighter for her cigarette. You’d be bitching about the smell no doubt, or pretending it didn’t bother you.  

“Not really,” Tara shrugged, “he doesn’t hit her or anything but he’s pretty dependent on her mom. I mean, the guy’s been in and out of rehab for years now, he can barely hold a steady job. Last time he was in the hospital he was on suicide watch cause he’s so miserable. Why are you asking me all this anyway? Why not ask Maggie?”

“Some friends ya don’t tell everything to.” He replied. “Ya let me know how she’s doing?”  

“Go to the diner and make up and see her yourself.”

“I already told her, she’s got enough shit going on, don’t need me adding to it.” Daryl replied.  

“Before you go,” Tara stopped him as he started to walk around to the driver’s side of the truck. “Just tell me, do you like her? Would you date her?”

He nodded, slowly. Not like he was unsure, just like he was trying to censor his answer. He settled on “yeah” because anything else would have been too much to tell kid. He would date you, hell, he was pretty sure that he would marry you if he was given the chance. He’d never thought much about liking anyone before. Daryl had seen Merle with different women his whole life but he’d never really bothered appreciating any of his own. People just came and went and he figured that was exactly how life would always be. And now there was you and he wouldn’t mind setting up a future, he’d already laid one out in his head. A nice one, like all the upstanding people in King County, the ones who whispered about him, had. There’d be a house, or a farm like Hershel’s, and kids if you wanted them though he’d never thought of himself as needing to bring any children into the world. It’d be nice though and you’d both be happy.  

“Don’t tell her I stopped by?” Daryl asked.  

“I won’t.” Tara replied, “think about it though? Cause she was happy with you and she was standing up for herself and she never used to. I don’t want her to lose that.”  

Daryl shut the door on the truck and Tara backed away as he started the engine, reversing and then peeling out of the parking lot. She took another drag of the cigarette and dropped it on the ground, smashing it into the white line with her shoe.  

You were working at the diner that afternoon and when you saw Daryl’s truck pull into Dale’s Autobody across the street you considered taking a ten minute break just to go talk to him. If you could figure out what was going on between the two of you, or even just apologize for what you said in the grocery store. You would’ve killed for a time machine that night, imagining the possibility of rewinding yourself back to the moment before you told him, of being able to pretend you didn’t feel the way you were feeling.  

If you could’ve done it over again you wouldn’t have said anything. Kept quiet until, and you hoped there was a possibility, he liked you so much that he couldn’t possibly reject you. And yet, you knew it was pointless to think that way. Standing in the parking lot with him, you had known that the only thing you wanted in that moment was him.  

-

Maggie sat on the top rung of the wooden fence with you, lanterns set out to illuminate the make shift camp site that she and Tara had put together for your birthday.  Glenn had come once it was dark enough that no one from the house would realize that he was there. You were usually wired, especially considering the amount of alcohol that Glenn and Tara had both brought with them. You had half a bottle of wine left, holding the nose in your hand as you sat there with Maggie, silently staring ahead to the porch light that looked more like a lightening bug at this distance.

“Glenn’s been talking about college,” Maggie finally said. Tara and Glenn had both punched out early but you and Maggie couldn’t seem to fall asleep. Or maybe she was just sitting up with you to be nice. “It’ll be nice to get away from all this. Have you talked about it with your parents?”

“My mom says the college fund is,” you sliced your hand across the air, “gone. Guess it’s waiting tables for me.”

“Woodbury has a college, maybe you could go there?”

“It’s not Emory...” you replied. “I don’t know any more honestly. I just wanted to go to college cause I wanted to get out of here. Guess I still do.”  

You had thousands of dreams of college as a kid. Getting out of King County and never coming back. You could be one of those kids who moves to the city without leaving a forwarding address, who disappears from the average existence of small-town life. Breaking whatever mold, you had been born into. It always seemed like it would be you, Maggie had the farm and she complained about the church but you knew she loved it. But now she was talking about life outside of King County and it seemed insane to you that you would be the only one contemplating all the things in your life that you thought about changing. Maybe some of them could stay the same.  

“I told Daryl I liked him.” You said, “told him I was gonna be 18, we could date.”

“What’d he say?” Maggie asked, reaching for the wine bottle to take a sip.

“Same thing he’s been saying, that I shouldn’t ‘get dragged into his life’.”  

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you.” Maggie sounded too hopeful for her own good. And why shouldn’t she? Even if she thought about leaving King County everything about her screamed small town. The high school sweetheart, the southern twang, the pastor’s daughter dichotomy. She hit all the marks.  

“Means he doesn’t want to.” You replied, taking the wine back.

“Well take it however you want but, maybe it’s a sign? You been getting too close to something dangerous. I love you and you know that but you were spending all your time with him, not going to church, not doing stuff with me or Glenn or going to youth group. Maybe it’s a good wake up call. Your mama wouldn’t want you tossing it all away for a boy. Especially not Daryl.” Maggie stated.  

You knew somewhere along the way you had given up trying to keep up appearances. You weren’t the sweet kid who had sat all through Thanksgiving and then snuck out at the end, something had changed and you had stopped caring if people knew who you were hanging out with. Deanna had only seen you because you’d gotten too reckless.  

“Guess so.” You said, hopping down off the fence. You had never told Maggie about your mom and you certainly couldn’t now. You weren’t even sure that she would believe you.  

“What?”  

“What?” You asked, eyes meeting hers in the dark.  

“You got that look, like you did before you dragged me to Dale’s.” Maggie said, watching the slow smile on your face as you bit your lip.  

“Just thinking.”

She was right though, and you knew it. Even as you climbed into the tent you were sharing with Tara, laying on your back as if you could see the stars through the vinyl, your head was swirling with any sort of idea you could grasp at. Maggie could say whatever about you and what you cared about but at the end of it you knew what you wanted. Her pep talk wasn’t going to deter you.  

-

In the morning you stopped at Dale’s, church bells ringing as you got out of your jeep. You were supposed to be meeting your mom for service but you had pit stopped here. Axel was out front working on a car and he waved when he saw you. Daryl wasn’t overly forthcoming with information about his life so it didn’t surprise you that he would’ve neglected to tell anyone about the night at the grocery store.  

He was in the back, maybe just finished with something cause he was wiping his hands on a rag from the back pocket of his coveralls and you weren’t quite ready for the ache in your chest at the sight of him. Your heals on the concrete weren’t quiet and Daryl looked over when he heard them, jaw tensing.  

“What’re ya doing here?” He asked.  

“I thought about what you said.” You replied, a little less confident than you had felt when you stepped out of your car. “And I’ve come to a decision.”

“Am I supposed ta ask what that is?”  

“Yes.” You moved closer, he wasn’t running but he looked a little reminiscent of a caged animal.

“I got work.”  

“Wait, just hear me out,” you begged. He started to say something, no doubt telling you to leave, but you stopped him, forging ahead. “I know I told you that I liked you when we were at the grocery store but it’s more than that. I love you. And I think you love me too. I’ve been thinking about leaving King County and getting away from my mom for a long time and lately I been thinking I don’t care. There’s still some things I want, ya know, but I can get ‘em right here and mostly, I just want to spend time with you.”

There was a lot Daryl wanted to tell you, that you were right. He did love you. “Ya don’t know what yer saying.”

“I do.”

“No,” Daryl snapped. “Ya don’t! There ain’t a future here for ya. Yer wasting yer time and one day, you’ll wake up and yer gonna realize that’s all ya been doing, wasting time, and yer gonna want out. Save yerself the trouble and just go.”  

“I’m not wasting my time.” You insisted.  

“I got work.”  

“No, Daryl,” you grabbed his arm, stopping him from turning and leaving.  

“I told ya before, I’ll say it again, there ain’t nothing here for ya.” He replied, pulling away from you.  

“Fine then tell me I’m wrong.” You said, “tell me you don’t love me and I’ve just been imagining it.”

“I got work.” He repeated, brushing passed you.  

You knew what you should’ve been feeling. Depressed, angry, absolutely gutted. All of those fit the bill but you couldn’t make yourself feel any of those. As you climbed back in your jeep, pulling out of the parking lot, all you could feel was the smallest, fleeting, sense of hope. He hadn’t said that he didn’t love you. Nothing he said suggested that he didn’t feel the same way. You’d been thinking that he just didn’t like you back but it wasn’t that at all. He was just afraid.  

You knew how you felt. And now, you knew how he felt too.  

-

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[periminkle]

Orphic | 01

After moving into your own place, it seems life is finally going your way; the path to independence leading you to a quaint suburban town where even the grass seems to grow a little greener. Although a shocking encounter leads you to believe that perhaps appearances can be quite deceiving.

pairing: hybrid!jk x reader (first person)

genre: hybrid au, angst, fluff

word count: 7.3k (includes slightly edited version of preview!)

rating: PG-15

warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, scuffle, not nice people >:(

author’s note: the first chap! thanks so much for all the love for the preview and pls let me know if you enjoyed it bc i have even more of a praise kink than our king jimin :) i don’t wanna know if u hated it lmao get outta herE

→ previous | next

“Almost there... And... Done!”

I heaved the last of the sturdy boxes into the narrow doorway, pride bubbling at my unexpected strength. Droplets of salty perspiration were beginning to form at my temples and became increasingly uncomfortable the longer I stood there. 

But, with a litter of obnoxiously brown boxes blocking the route into my recently purchased home, I had no way of setting foot past the minimal space by the doorway. “Shit.”

Spontaneously deciding that enough energy had been exerted for the day, evident by the shroud of darkness out the expansive windows, a few steps took me back out the front door. I followed the chipped white timber of the sides of my house, heading towards the back entrance.

Even though the plot was relatively large in size, the cottage built upon the land was minuscule; a single floor encompassing a kitchen, living room, hallway, bedroom and bathroom. 

With that being said, the rest of the expanse was mine to revel in and admire. Hence the lack of fence encompassing my area, seeing as the forest bled its way into my recently mowed lawn anyhow.

The bulk of the towering woodland was hidden in a blanket of obscurity, brought about by the later hours that subtly induced unease. Those late night horror movie marathons only worsened the unrest in my mind. 

I tried to dispel the disquietude with thoughts of the methodic chirping, courtesy of the tiny orchestra of crickets that seemed to be scattered in every which direction. The smell of the damp earth invaded my senses and relaxed my shoulders a fraction.

Albeit, the crunch of dead leaves being trampled under a heavy weight belonging to an unknown being unsettled me enough to break into a scurry along my wooden porch. 

With a slight shiver slipping down my spine, I shook any solicitude off and slid open the unlocked door. I was greeted by the cool air conditioning of the indoors, as well as a telltale grumble from my own drained form.

I preheated a batch of leftovers that I’d thankfully packed from my family’s house, foreseeing how debilitating the move would be. Without regard to the lamentable furniture surrounding me, I plonked down on a creaky seat and felt my depleted energy stored slowly being refilled with each bite.

Even though my furnishings and house were humble, regret had no place in my mind for the difficult decision I’d made to pack up and leave my childhood home. Over there, the lights never flickered and scuffled furniture simply didn’t exist, with even the moldings on the walls lacking even a speck of dust.

But I witnessed, lived, through the monstrosities that lay beyond all those superficial aspects. The suffocating nature, not in the air that circulated around the place, but in the individuals with no respect for one another. My tolerance thinned over the years and I’d left the second I could.

Living in a secluded area of my tiny town had its own perks for my antisocial self — one of which being an absurd amount of land for a relatively cheap price — but the appeal of living in a bustling city wasn’t lost on me. 

For reasons excluding my relatives, I was simply tired of having lived in a city my whole life and desired some form of change, meeting new mindsets and developing my own.

Before I’d even properly settled in, I’d been convinced that moving out here had been a brilliant decision. Saving up for a couple years to be able to rent out a cozy cottage with a stunning forest as my backyard was turning out to be my haven.

Albeit, the pesky bugs were certainly not a part of that bliss.

I detached myself from the distant thoughts about my life hundreds of miles away and focused on the scenery across from me, better able to observe the breathtaking quality of the tenebrous forest from the safety of my new home. The sylvan scent penetrated my home, having closed only the window screen behind me when I entered.

Hearing the weak mewl of some kind of feline peaked my curiosity, wondering if a neighbour’s cat had taken a long journey and gotten themselves lost. I picked up the slow movement slinking among the bramble that connected my backyard to the thick timberland. 

The light from my lamps only extended so far and unluckily, I was unable to properly identify the animal staggering towards my back porch. My heart ached, thinking that this poor animal must be starving and in need of help. 

An apparent limp in its movements tugged at the last of my heartstrings. My fridge was stocked full, being one of my top priorities when I moved in; so food wasn’t a problem right now. Deciding it would be nice to make a new friend, I gathered my own bowl and headed outside.

The sliding of the window screen startled the pitiful creature, making a hasty retreat in the form of a hobble to find refuge in the foliage, hiding and waiting for my next move. I let out a small smile, hoping to appear as friendly as possible as I slowly stepped out into the chilly night air once again. 

“Hey buddy, what’re you doing out here?” I crouched down and laid the bowl on the floor. “It’s kinda cold out, hm?”

Not even the twitch of a leaf.

“Are you hungry?” 

I was met once again with no reaction. Deflated yet understanding in the lack of trust, I pushed myself back up, grabbing the bowl. As I stepped towards the door though, I heard it again.

Mew.

With a quiet giggle, I turned back, winked at the still-hidden creature and stepped inside, sliding the door closed. The night was silent, save for the trill of the crickets reaching their own encore for the night when the door abruptly opened once again.

“You like tuna, bud?” A smaller plate with canned tuna, out of the can but still in its cylindrical shape was placed on the last step of the porch. “Thought you might like that more than leftovers, huh?”

Although the same lack of response took place, I wasn’t deterred this time, smiling one last time into the darkness. “Enjoy it, but not too much okay? Go back to your owner’s house after this.” I let a shiver run through my body from the cold nipping my bare skin before ambling back inside to finish off my own dinner.

Despite my words, I did hope the kitty would come visit again.

I felt yet another ache pulse through my stiff back. The absence of a proper bed to sleep in at night was duly noted and the task of assembling my bed frame was bumped up higher on my to-do list for the day. Another night of cuddling up on the freezing, rigid floor with only a flimsy sheet to cushion my restless body might strip a decade out of my life expectancy.

A feeble attempt to flatten out my wrinkled button up — that I painstakingly ironed the day before — proved as fruitless as the dozen other times I tried smoothing it out just this morning. I brushed the imaginary dust off my modest pencil skirt while I was at it, resigning to my rumpled fate.

Groaning, I swiftly nabbed a granola bar and a pre-made sandwich I’d filled with tuna, inspired by the incident with the hidden feline last night. Despite the gruelling urge within me to check for possible remainders on the porch step, the blinking light from the oven clock pushed me down the slender hall and back to my barricaded doorway,

I squawked in recollection, pushing at the hefty boxes in a flurry. Eventually, I created a tunnel which I crawled through, slipping some sneakers on before stumbling out to the bus stop. When I recalled that the closest stop was a five minute walk, time being a luxury I couldn’t afford right now, I broke into a sprint.

With heaving lungs, I reached the little blue shelter just as the bulky vehicle rounded the corner. A few steps, the tap of a card, the beep of the completed transaction, and a huff brought me on to an austere seat. 

The same shade of prosaic blue within the bus itself led my eyes to the view beyond the dirty windows, marvelling at the vibrant greens and bright earthy tones that blocked any view of the sky. 

Fifteen minutes condensed into seconds, my mind racing with the new possibilities and experiences this town would bring me. Even the prospect of the shy kitty returning again tonight prompted a brief smile.

Dismounting from the stifling vehicle, I took a moment to adjust to the blinding white shade of the laboratory; I pursed my lips in determination. Hoping to appear graceful with long strides, I made my way to the entrance, pulling open the heavy door with a click. A receptionist came into view. 

She could barely be seen over the lengthy, curved desk, only the top of her coiffed strands on the crown of her head peaking through. As I approached, I took in her excessively teased hair and big brown eyes, accented with thick, black liner. 

Clasping both hands together in a bundle of chilly nerves, I patiently waited for the tapping of the keyboard to cease before she turned one heavily shadowed lid towards me. “Hello, welcome to the Test Centre of Enriched Mutagens, how can I help you today?”

Only slightly intimidated, I fumbled with my fingers out of sight. “Uh, hi there. I recently got hired as a lab attendant here.” Cursing my distinctly timid tone I continued, “I was instructed to ask for a Kim Seokjin?”

A stiff nod and more typing was my only reply. Orbs remaining trained on the monitor in front of her as the lady picked up the receiver, punched some numbers in a rapid succession, then situated the phone between her right shoulder and ear. The fervent tapping continued.

I wondered what she was typing up that was so important.

“Yes, she’s here director,” she quipped. My gaze lodged itself onto her name tag, framed by her strawberry blonde locks. Bae Eunmi. “Of course, I’ll send her up.”

The receiver clicked in place as she nodded her head towards the left. After a couple seconds passed with no further acknowledgement, I became increasingly aware that the short interaction was all I was going to get out of the curt woman, trekking over to the elevator she had indicated earlier.

With only two floors to the laboratory, the trip wasn’t long enough to grant me time to compose myself from the abrupt conversation I experienced before I was met with a long hallway, ending with a sturdy door that had a slit above the bulky handle for a keycard.

Seeing as I had not received any sort of card, I peered around at the nameplates drilled beside the other wooden doors. This floor ominously had no windows, a dingy, low lamp the only source of light that allowed me to decipher the engravings.

I passed a few flashy titles before I reached Assistant Director Kim Seokjin.

With a deceivingly confident knock and a shaky inhale I picked up a faint, “come in.”

A rather spacious office was revealed as I pulled open the heavy wood — shelves filled with packed binders, loose papers scattered across the desk with a thin monitor practically concealed under neon coloured sticky notes. Even the two chairs tucked away in the corner had a teetering stack of paperwork on each seat.

I took a step inside the chaotic space and bowed to the man whose sunken eyes flickered to my own. “Hi, sorry to disturb you. My name is Y/N and we talked on the phone last week. I’m the new research attendant.”

He flashed me a kind smile through his exhaustion, his evidently dull features proof of a long night. Considering the sheer amount of paper work in his office, I wasn’t sure a good night’s rest was ever on this man’s schedule.

“Ah, yes, you came down from the city, correct?” I nodded in confirmation, glad he remembered our previous conversation. “My apologies that the director couldn’t meet you himself, but you’ll get to see my handsome face instead,” he chuckled, sounding faintly similar to a windshield wiper. “I’m Kim Seokjin, the assistant director, but you can just call me Jin, everyone here does.”

I felt my tense body slacken at his warmth and bright disposition despite his arduous workload. Unconsciously, I suspected the whole staff may be terse and unwelcoming, though I was thankful that I was pleasantly mistaken. In my comfort, a chortle escaped my lips. “Alright then, Jin, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Of course it is,” he exclaimed with a jesting harrumph. “So, how are you liking this lonely town so far?”

Taking a few steps closer I responded honestly. “Even though the loneliness hasn’t hit me yet, I feel like I can finally breathe here. The city was a bit much sometimes.”

Humming in an understanding tone, I watched him rise from his plush chair, plucking one of the many binders out of the shelf and placing it on top of the mountain of papers on his desk. “That’s a good mentality, you know? I hope you can always find the silver lining in any situation you’re thrown into.”

Jin grips one of the many contracts laid within and slides it over to me with a pen. “Sign each highlight please.”

As I read over all the nitty gritty details, the man across from me continued, “I really hope you can be as resilient as we need you to be, Y/N. I know it’s tough work, but I just have a good feeling about you.”

Not paying much mind to Jin’s ramblings I easily agreed and handed the completed contract back.

“Well, come on then, I’ll introduce you to the people you’ll be working with.”

I accompanied Jin back out his office and down the hall, past yet another sturdy wooden door. The strong, pungent scent of coffee assaulted my nose, confirming the new space I’d entered was the break room; two male employees lounging around and sipping on their steaming mugs. 

“You finally came out of that office Jin?” A tall man leaning against one of the tables called out first, grinning with his dimples on full display. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah, well, it seems like I’m the only one doing work around here anymore.” He jested, a playful smirk attached to his handsome visage.

“You can’t blame us, you know Hyunho and Minzi would never let us breathe the same air as their ‘confidential project.’ Wouldn’t want our ‘inexperienced hands’ ruining the whole thing.” The other man in the room rolled his eyes, taking another sip of the bitter liquid in his cup. 

“We’re not getting into this again, you two.” Seokjin gave a stern look, any lighthearted air in the room dissipating along with his remark. He glanced back at me, nudging me forward with a tap to my shoulder. “This is the new lab attendant, Y/N.”

Although the sharp-eyed man spared a sympathetic glance my way he backfired with, “yeah, the third one this month.” 

“Yoongi, I said that’s enough.” Although Seokjin’s words were strict and clipped, the palm rubbing over his face displayed his fatigue.

“I just don’t understand why we can’t even have access to the files, I mean we are researchers too, this is complete bullshi—”

“Y/N, I’ll be heading back to my office to finish up some paperwork, alright? These two can show you ropes.” The assistant director turned in my direction, the corners of his lips twitching upwards ever so slightly before trudging back to his office.

The shorter man slammed his mug down on the shabby table with a low, “goddamnit.”

“Honestly, I think this little guy is the best part of the whole place.” The dimpled man who had introduced himself as Kim Namjoon flashed his dimples, attempting to overcompensate for his gloomy partner, Min Yoongi. 

The two had been working as lab assistants here for a few years now and despite the seniority, Namjoon insisted on maintaining a first name basis with both him and Yoongi. He also offered a tour, which I graciously accepted.

“A jaguar?”

“A baby jaguar.” The sprawled sleeping form of a pitch black feline met my eyes. “He was brought in about three months ago. His name is Taemin.” I carefully approached the cage, maintaining a safe distance as a general precaution despite his lack of consciousness. 

Rather than providing comfort, I found that the muzzle locked around his jaws unsettled me further, which I found oddly paradoxical. I guess my designated tour guide picked up on my discomfort when he voiced, “he’s docile enough to us, but if Hyunho or any of his lackeys come by, he can get real aggressive.”

This was the second time that name popped up into the conversation and I quelled my blazing curiosity, dispelling any urges to question Namjoon about the mysterious figure. With the negative context his name was brought up with and the dark, brooding look Yoongi wore, I decided it was best not to prod, for my own sake as well.

I was brought back to reality when the animal in front of me shifted slightly. Despite my reluctancy to become attached, I couldn’t help but coo when a stretch wracked his small form, turning over in his sleep. 

Although I had done my share of research into this laboratory before applying to the position and was cognizant that they didn’t harm any of their subjects — I knew Taemin’s life wasn’t in any danger, but he would be gone once all his testing was complete. I refused to get too emotionally attached in order to avoid future heartache.

 I noticed his head cuddling deeper into his plush bed and knew my plan was futile. “You think he would like me?”

Namjoon let out a hum in thought, “I’m not too sure. You can try petting him if you want, just make sure to let him sniff you first.”

Slowly unlocking the cage, I extended my hand towards the muzzle, waiting with bated breath. The still sleeping animal brought up its head and placed his cheek in my cupped hand, letting loose a faint purr that I felt traveling up my palm. I stroked the edge of his jaw that wasn’t covered by the muzzle.

Oh no.

It was too late, Taemin owned every inch of my heart.

Gently placing his head back down onto his fluffy bed, my hand made a swift retreat as I flicked the lock back in place. I hoped I would be able to see more of the baby in the future.

Standing back up to face Namjoon I reluctantly tore my gaze away from the angel behind bars. Pondering when we would head to the second floor after having examined every speck of dust in the first floor, I voiced my thoughts to the lanky man. “So, are we heading back up now?” 

A sigh met my ears and I turned to look at the brooding culprit who hadn’t opened his mouth since the tense interaction with Seokjin, simply tagging along the tour that Namjoon narrated. “We can’t introduce you to anything you haven’t already seen upstairs.” When he met my confused orbs he continued, “we can only enter the break room and Jin’s office up there, everything else is off limits.”

“Oh, um... I don’t mean to sound rude, especially since this is my first day and everything, but the equipment down here seem pretty... Insufficient for quality resear-” I stuttered out my concerns.

“Don’t you think we know that? Why do you think we go through lab attendants so quickly? Nobody wants to stay in a place that doesn’t have the proper equipment to perform any kind of substantial research. Not to mention neither of the head researchers trust us enough to even look at the stupid files.”

Namjoon piped in, probably sensing how heated the other man was getting. “We mainly just note the patterns in the bases of a variety of animals’ DNA that involve certain genes.”

“Not to say that’s not effective research, but scientists with your qualifications usually investigate more ground-breaking subjects.” I became a bit dejected at my own future here; I applied for a job here to further my ambitions, knowing this lab was well-known for its high quality studies.

Would I be forced to move back to the city? I couldn’t tuck tail and scutter home after all the effort and money I expended on this move, not to mention the disastrous situation I would be faced with if I returned now. No, I was desperate to find a reason to stick it out. “Why do you two stay here then? Why not just find another lab?”

“It wasn’t always like this, Y/N. It’s been over half a year now since the new management came in and basically brought in a whole new set of personnel with them. They took all the most expensive equipment upstairs and sealed it behind a locked door.”

“They even replaced the damned cleaning staff.” Yoongi scoffed out, painstakingly fed up with the circumstances.

Namjoon crossed his arms, giving a warning look over to man with bleached locks, probably in order to keep his anger from bleeding through for the second time today. “They were adamant about keeping Jin and he let us stick around, couldn’t leave this lab in the hands of complete strangers.”

“But why—”

My wrist was suddenly enclosed in Yoongi’s long, thin fingers, dragging me into the assistant researcher’s office they had familiarized me with half an hour ago. I saw Namjoon glance around before entering in after us and closing the door behind him.

Yoongi released his grip on me, leaning in close and hissing out, “it’s all some cryptic confidentiality bullshit. They’re doing something up there, something revolutionary, something dangerous, and they only trust their own people to keep quiet.” 

With a hum, slightly intimidated, I questioned, “okay, but why did they evacuate the whole place, why not just build another lab and—”

Namjoon leant against the door, lowering his voice as well. “This is a remote town, there won’t be many people to question and investigate what they’re studying all the way out here.” 

With many overwhelming thoughts raging, the locked door upstairs abruptly came to mind. “You don’t have the keycard either, I’m guessing.”

“You pick things up pretty quick, huh?”

After the draining events at work, I felt no motivation to peel off my thoroughly wrinkled items of clothing, having switched out of the lab clothes in the changing room back at work. 

Rather than a physical enervation, the realization that my expectations to further my own studies was not a reality here sapped me of any incentive to unpack or do anything of value.

The temptation of warm pyjamas encasing my shivering body as I slept another night on the hard surface of the floor was almost reason enough to conjure up some hidden energy from the deepest recesses of my body. 

I crawled my way though the makeshift hole I made earlier in the day through two of the boxes. Thankfully, no roommates meant that the house was absent of another being to pester me regarding the hassle I made at the entrance, though I thought it was quite clever considering my circumstances.

The sun had set many hours back, which I failed to detect as all my concentration was set on marking down the base sequence that brought about Taemin’s black fur colour. Jin was double-checking the state of each room before locking up for the night when he discovered my form, hunched over a microscope. 

Continuing to the kitchen on hands and knees out of my present shortage in strength, I nearly decided to call it a night right there in the middle of the hallway. Though, I settled with briskly whipping up an egg or two in hopes that it would replenish enough energy to tidy up a bit before retiring to bed. 

I left the eggs to cook as I departed, off to locate a plate, which I only had two of at the moment, courtesy of the unloading that needed to be completed at the doorway. A glimpse into the sink revealed the location of one suspect, dirty from yesterday’s dinner.

I tugged open the nearest cabinet to search for the other one because I sure as hell was not washing any dishes right now. But, instead of the ceramic I was expecting, the bare walls of the storage area stumped me.

The memory of the creature I’d met yesterday flashed through my mind, bringing about a sudden burst of excitement that had me shuffling my way to the backyard door, flicking the porch light on and staring at the wood that seemed to glare back at me. 

No sight of the tuna or the plate. 

Initially, I took extreme offence to the absurd situation. I graciously extended a helping hand to a vulnerable cat to enjoy some savoury tuna and the bugger decided to steal—

Wait.

How in the hell did the thumbless feline pick up the hefty plate in the first place?

After snooping around the surrounding area a bit, no sight of the pristine plate, I gave up. Maybe it held the ceramic in its mouth?

The mental image I’d conjured up brought a slight chuckle out of me, cutting short when catching sight of several crimson paw prints on the porch, accompanied by specks of the same hue. I pondered the unusually large size of the print, slightly larger than my palm. 

An alarmingly large quantity of blood appeared with each step, the pace of my heart quickening with worry both for myself and the creature. Who could harm a massive animal like this and for what purpose?

I also thought about if the splotches would wash out with the rain or if I had to slot in a time to come out and clean off the marks. Although, the cleaning supplies were also in those unpacked boxes, so any stain removal had to be put on hold.

The bloody prints extended into my lawn as well, blades of grass covered in a layer of red. From what I could make out, the trail was U-shaped, beginning from the forest, coming to where I stood at the porch, then heading back.

A spike of fear travelled through me when a thicket shook violently. Were these stains left by the kitty I encountered the day before? From my limited knowledge in zoology, I doubted that large cats could even produce such pathetic mewls with their vocal chords, which were better suited to growl or roar. 

But what was a creature of this size doing on the outskirts of civilization? I wasn’t too sure about how far the woodlands extended past my yard, but I was relatively certain that the bulkier predators had more than enough space to themselves without needing to expand their territory.

I was in the midst of this back-and-forth conflict with myself when I heard a familiar cry reaching my ears. Pushing back my raucous thoughts for a moment, I settled on responding to little thief.

“You’re back! Do you happen to have my plate by any chance?”

The lack of response confirmed my suspicions. I was now down to one, currently grubby plate in the house.

“Alright, fine, keep the damn thing.” The initial fear and suspicion I felt had simmered down quite bit, heavily due to the lack of aggression on the animal’s part and a distinct fondness I held for my first friend here that I wasn’t aware of yet. Though, I remained on guard, as there could always be another beast lurking.

In order to discover any of answers I was seeking, I knew that I had to take matters into my own hands and decipher whether my pitiful kitty was actually a large, ferocious feline— badly hurt, nonetheless. I took the portable first-aid kit out of my bag as well as the forgotten, squished tuna sandwich.

Removing the saran wrap and crumpling it into a ball, I placed the much-smaller-than-I-remember sandwich down on the wood as bait. “Guess we can’t be civil, huh bub? If you’re gonna steal my plate, have the courage to show yourself, you criminal," I teased and hoped to lure the cautious creature out. 

Nothing.

“Hey, you wanna come and let me get a look at you? I can see if I can patch you up, how about that?”

Nope.

“Come on, look! You’re favourite tuna, in a delicious sandwich now!”

Nada.

I pouted at the bundle of leaves I knew the feline was hiding under, hoping to elicit some kind of reaction. Albeit, any sliver of hope was crushed with the lack of movement. Worry grew at the back of my mind, desperately hoping that the creature could live through their seemingly dire injuries. I flashed a regretful smile and lowered the sandwich on the last step. 

At the very least, I wished that the snack would provide energy for its body to repair itself. With one last glance at the silent underbrush, I turned my back and lumbered into the confines of my cottage. Hopefully, I would get another chance to beckon the mammal out of its hiding place tomorrow.

The contrast of the dark droplets of blood against the light wood of my porch disturbed me more than I’d like to admit.

The daily routine of travelling to work, interacting with the few friends I made there and coming back home to attend late night meetings with my concealed kitty was growing on me. I was elated that I finally found a group of my own people, and not-quite-people, to converse and share thoughts with. 

However, this town also seemed to have its own fair share of rotten apples.

I finally met the rumoured Lee Hyunho, a bulky man who introduced himself as one of the two head researchers. He seemed polite enough at first, but I detected the same brusque characteristic I noticed in the receptionist from my first day. 

It appeared that all the staff brought in by the “new” management had this particular quality. 

My own frustrations began to grow alongside Namjoon and Yoongi, constantly repeating the same tasks over and over again, day after day. When I tried to confront the other head researcher, Joo Minzi, about granting us more access to the studies they were conducting, she made it very clear that my “inexperienced hands” were not permitted to touch any of their files, test subjects or even approach the lab upstairs.

Charming, really.

The interaction left me fuming, much to Namjoon’s amusement, claiming that he now had two fiery beasts to quell. My interactions with the arrogant staff members were limited though, and bouncing between Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, and the surprisingly amicable janitor made the work days bearable. 

I also took immense pleasure in going against Minzi’s words by playing with Taemin every once in a while.

I was proud to announce my accomplishment in finally unloading all of the supplies within my many boxes to anyone that would listen, now able to revel in the tidiness of my living space. The guys were able to visit now too, previously refusing to crawl through my rather unique entryway.

Progress concerning my kitty was little to none, but I did discover that it was immensely therapeutic to relay my worries to the mammal, finding comfort in its presence.

I took the rustling of the leaves as acknowledgement for my exasperated tone. “I mean, I don’t even feel like a researcher there! It’s all ‘hey newbie, go get me a coffee,’ ‘this is classified, no touching,’ ‘you can’t participate, this isn’t a charity,’ blah, blah, blah...” I raised my tone and ended my rant with a pout, embodying the childish behaviour that encompassed how I felt I was being treated as of late.

“Remember the really cute janitor I was telling you about? Jung Hoseok? Well, he was telling me about some stuff he heard when he was cleaning the lab upstairs.” I heard a short swish of foliage being disrupted, which I assumed was a result of the creature tilting its head.

“Apparently, they’d made big advancements on whatever stupid ‘highly confidential’ project they’re working on. It definitely has something to do with the patterns in different animals’ DNA, but I can’t pinpoint exactly what they’re trying to accomplish...

“And guess what? Hoseok said he’d overheard that they’d lost a test subject a little over a week ago! There’s probably a mouse scurrying around somewhere, living his best, liberated life right now.” I shifted in place, adjusting my position to make myself more comfortable in the chilly night. “I just wish I knew what was going on, you know...”

“I wanted to prove them all wrong.” I sneaked a glimpse at the forest for any indication of a vocal response I knew the creature gave occasionally. In a small voice I added, “but maybe they were right.”

Another shuffle broke through my lengthy monologue and I facetiously grinned towards the camouflaged animal. “Y’know, I’m starting to really question whether you’re here for my company or for this,” I pointed to the tuna, disturbingly still in that short cylindrical shape. 

I stared past the obscure stalks of the trees, having found consolation and tranquility in the space a few days prior, even from beyond my glass door. My initial apprehension of unknown monsters subsided and it was reassuring to know that my kitty was somewhere in there as well.

Another shuffle revealed a pair of bright, beady eyes meeting my own enlarged ones. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest by the sudden appearance, although I tried not to alarm the creature back into hiding by revealing my own trepidation. 

Knowing the keen senses felines had, there was little doubt in my mind that the one across from me wouldn’t be able to pick up my instantaneous change in demeanour.

“You gonna come and get it or what?” With a slight nod towards the meal, I cursed the slight quiver in my voice and prayed that the creature felt comfortable enough to reveal more of itself to me. My curiosity was bubbling as I allowed my gaze to travel to the crown of its head. 

I concluded that the creature’s fur was either pure black or another dark tone, hard to decipher when I didn’t have the enhanced night vision of the mammal perched a few metres away. Said feline made no further movements, keeping his gaze trained on me. 

I analyzed the elongated slits that served as pupils, engraving the rich green shade of its irises into my mind, fearful that this sudden intimacy may scare the mammal off, never to be seen again.��But, I found myself unable to divert my gaze, feeling as though I was staring at a physical manifestation of the pure soul of the forest.

It was utterly mesmerizing.

An impatient gruff left the creature’s mouth, snapping me out of my reverie and I resigned. “Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m leaving alright?”

Maybe one day the mammal would feel comfortable enough to eat in front of me and I could migrate my dinners to the porch outside. Refusing to get too greedy, I reminded myself that the baby steps taken today were infinitely better than none at all.

With one foot in my house, I turned back to the tantalizing eyes, still focused on my pyjama-clad form as I beamed back gratefully. “’Night bud.”

The snapping of the lock clicking back into place alleviated some of the soreness of my overworked muscles as I took another step inside. My head fell back to sneak a glance at the ceiling, hoping to peek past the old plaster and stare into the eyes of any higher being out there.

I quickly considered whether to thank them for this opportunity of a lifetime or to curse them out for my seemingly limitless workload.

As my eyelids slid close in defeat, an exhausted sigh involuntarily slipped out into the silence. Kicking off my shoes into the pitiful pile by the doorway to join the rest of its brethren, I wandered deeper into my rather small abode in the darkness; only my padded footsteps and the zipper of my jacket being undone 

Hearing my stomach rumble with its complaints, I made the couple steps toward the kitchen’s light switch. But, an abrupt halt came with the memory of yesterday’s optimistic plan of embarking on a trip to the grocery store after a short work shift.

Evidently, I hadn’t predicted the gruelling day I would have nor the extra hours that would be requested of me. I found that I’d been frequenting the store quite often as of late, the demand of food increasing once another mouth to feed came into question.

In a reluctant fashion, I pulled my jacket back up to my shoulders, knowing that the fridge was just as empty as my stomach currently was. I pushed my aching limbs back towards the entrance, pondering over whether the grocery store was even open this late in the night.

However, I was forced to a grinding halt once again as I heard a booming thump from my backyard and my blood ran cold.

I waited with bated breath as my heart rate elevated, pounding in my ears. A minute of stillness passed before yet another sigh escaped my jittery body. Another disadvantage of a remote plot included being frightened by every snap of a twig.

As a scoff passed through my chapped lips at my own cowardly antics, I began to resume my trek to the front door when another thud reached my ears. The recognition of the sound coming from the backyard alerted me that this time may be different, with the presence of an actual threat.

Following a series of gut-wrenching cracking noises, hurried footsteps approaching the wooden porch in my backyard startled me to action.

Hastily, I dashed back to the kitchen to grab an unnecessarily large kitchen knife out of the drawer and flew to cover behind my minuscule island. A quick glimpse down towards my chest revealed my shaking hands. Well, this is certainly one way to spice up my night.

Listening to the intruder fumble with the lock for a little while before it was being smashed into, I knew I couldn’t just stay cowering behind my kitchen island, waiting for this murderer to come and end my night (and all my subsequent nights thereafter). The rage behind having to buy and reinstall a new lock also propelled my need for revenge.

I took in a deep breath and steeled myself as the footsteps wandered in, coming straight towards the kitchen. A loud growl reverberated throughout my house and befuddled me further. Was the intruder simply a feral animal? The lack of a problem with my lock dismissed that thought but I couldn’t shake the feeling of a predator having sneaked into my house.

The feeling of being stalked.

I rapidly shook off that irrational thought, doubtful the stranger even knew of another presence in the house. As the intruder turned the corner — coming straight towards my hiding spot — I reared back a little before launching myself with my dull knife leading the way.

A screech made its way out of my throat as the intruder’s reflexes were evidently a lot better than mine, catching my wrist before I could inflict any damage. But, I refused to give in just yet as I attempted to smash the hard edge of my palm straight into the stranger’s nose in order to buy myself some time to flee.

Unfortunately, for me, that attack never reached its target as the intruder caught my throat in his other hand much faster and used his larger frame to smash my body against the fridge.

The wind escaped me, though I kept squirming to try whip my knee straight to his crotch as a final ditch attempt. I lightly cursed as a glimpse informed me the intruder was a brawny man.

He noticed my struggle and easily flipped me around, one hand finding purchase in my hair, banging my head against the cool metal of the fridge and the other held both of my hands pinned to my back. The knife clattered to the ground in a dangerous arc.

In the middle of wondering how the hell he gathered my wrists and disabled me in a split second, I felt a heavy growl in the shell of my ear. A cold shiver slipped down my spine, adrenaline slowing leaving my body as we both puffed out breaths of exertion.

What the actual fu—

“No hurt, need bandage and go.”

His broken English came out with a slight accent and I found myself nodding instantaneously as I tried to work out what he needed. “Okay, okay,” I muttered as best as I could with half my face smushed, “I have bandages in the big drawer by the sink. You can take those.”

I only received a grunt in acknowledgement. He nudged me with his foot to shuffle backwards with his hand still wrapped around my wrists and led me to the sink. Half curious about his motives and half accepting that I could never overpower the stranger, I followed obediently. Though that didn’t stop me from deliberating over how to outsmart the man.

Deciding on waiting for an opening or a slack in the grip around my wrists, I nodded my head towards the drawer I was referring to earlier and finally peered up at my intruder’s shadowed face. He wore a black ball cap on, aiding in hiding his features which were mostly guarded by the lack of light anyway.

A glance at the lower half of his visage allowed me to witness his pale lips and the small mole directly underneath them, as well as a sharp jawline leading to his exposed neck. Inconspicuously bringing my gaze even lower, I took in his matching tattered black outfit, confirming his bulky build and scuffed sneakers.

Maybe I could run to the nearest police station — which admittedly, was rather far, and provide a detailed description of the criminal. Considering if I made it out alive, of course.

With his vacant hand he swiftly pulled the drawer open, taking handfuls of bandages, gloves, bandaids and other miscellaneous items I crammed in there. The stranger stuffed as much equipment as he could fit into the large pocket of his hooded sweatshirt.

I would have found his full little pouch endearing if I wasn’t preoccupied with worrying over my own well-being.

Another awkward wobble later, we were back at the fridge. At this point, I was gathering all the courage I had left to aim for a pressure point on the criminal’s thigh that I vaguely knew the location of. I should have paid more attention in those self-defence classes, damnit.

Just as I turned to act, he bent down to pick up the discarded knife off the floor, effectively deterring my attack and forcing me into submission. He then turned to me to flash a slight smirk.

“Cute.”

Releasing his death grip on my bound wrists, he sprinted back out my now broken back door, heading off.

After a couple minutes of stewing in my thoughts, back against the cool fridge, I  struggled to comprehend the brief interaction and the dark drops of crimson littered all over my white tiles.

I still have to go grocery shopping.

tags: @aurorakingsley​

[country-club]

Fights

You two get into a fight and make up.

Reader x Pope / JJ / John B / Sarah / Kiara / Rafe / Topper Warnings: swearing, alcohol and mentions of drugs First preference type of thingy I have been working on. I’m sorry some are so short I also didn’t proofread ‘cus school’s almost over and I’m hella tired. Hope you enjoy :)

Pope

Pope HATES fighting, especially when it comes to you. Although Pope is used to the Pogues ruining his plans, it still tends to annoy him. The other day Pope was helping out his dad by delivering some orders when JJ pulled him aside to go check out something ‘super cool, once-in-a-lifetime-experience’, which turned out, wasn’t worth getting in a fight with his dad with. He would stay the night at your place whenever he had a fight at home.

You had been out with the Pogues all night, which would explain why you started feeling sick in the morning. You knew Pope had been studying all day and didn’t want to bug him. However, your hangover was really bad; you could barely make it to the toilet. The worst thing was you were home alone. After a couple of hours, you gave in and called Pope.

“Hey sweetheart, I’m kinda busy.”

“Pope I really need you right now.”

Pope must have heard the pain in your voice and told you he’d be there soon. You were laying on the couch with the television on, watching cartoons. You heard the door open and saw Pope walking in.

“Hey baby, what’s wrong?” He asked as he hurried over to you, only now noticing you were laying on the couch.

“I feel like shit.” You groaned as you sat up straight, making room for Pope.

“What happened?”

“The Pogues and I went out and-“ You couldn’t finish, as Pope cut you short.

“I can’t believe you. I’m sorry, but I came over here because I thought you were hurt or some shit and you’re telling me you called me over because you drank too much?”

You didn’t understand where he was coming from. He promised to always be there for you and currently you felt like shit and he was yelling at you.

“Go fuck yourself Pope.”

He just stood there, shaking his head.

“I gotta get back to studying, I’ll see you around.” And with that he left.

It wasn’t much of a fight, but now you were hungover and hurt.

~~~

It was quite late in the night and you couldn’t sleep. That fight kept you up. Where you the asshole for bothering Pope? Maybe. You decided to text him. Something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry, can we talk?’. At the same time your phone lit up. Pope was calling.

“Hey?”

“Did I wake you?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither, I’m right outside your house and-“ You hung up your phone and got out of bed immediately. Pope looked tired and sad. You walked over to him to give him a hug.

“I’m sorry I ruined your study-day.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I had no right being such an ass when you’re sick. I’m sorry. You needed me and I just yelled at you.”

“It’s been a long week, baby, would you like to come in?” He did. He even got you your favorite comfort food and made sure to give you the best cuddles you ever had. Pope isn’t afraid to say sorry when he’s wrong, which makes it easy on you to forgive him.

JJ

When it comes to fighting, JJ is a pain in the ass. This boy will say literally anything and everything that comes to mind without filter. You don’t fight often, but when you do it is big. The fights are usually about him getting into trouble and lying about it, making you worry. Or about his home situation and his dad. The arguments about his dad get him more emotional, teary-eyed even. The arguments about getting into fights with Kooks just make him angrier.

Today, it was the latter.

You were supposed to meet up at the chateau with the Pogues. You were already making your way down The Cut, the sun hurting your eyes as you forgot your sunglasses. You rode past a boy walking down the street. Once you realized it was JJ you biked past, you stopped biking and got off.

“Hey baby!” You made your way over to him. His face was looking down, as if his shoes were more interesting than you. Once you were standing in front of him, he stopped walking and looked up to face you. You immediately knew something was wrong. And by his bloody nose and upcoming black eye, you knew it was bad.

“Hey sweetcheeks.”

“My god, JJ what happened? Who did you fight this time?”

You knew that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He wanted for you not to know what had happened and just ignore it.

“It’s fine, Y/n, I promise.”

You opened your back to look for tissues while you murmur to yourself.

“I’m just gonna swing by my house, I’ll see you at the chateau alright baby.”

“JJ, please. Not this again. Please?”

He knew what you wanted.

“Some Kooks were bugging me. Can you please let it go?” He took the tissue and cleaned the blood from his nose.

“So, you just fight them? Why do you keep getting-“

“For fucks sake, Y/n. I was just getting some beers. That’s it. When all of the sudden these dicks come after me. Why do you always assume everything’s my fault?”

It wasn’t a question. Though JJ is known for starting fights with Kooks, you weren’t trying to blame him.

~~~

After JJ finished yelling at you, he continued walking. Immediately you were filled with guilt and pain. You followed JJ home, unsure of what to say. The couple of minute walk felt like an hour. JJ doesn’t do the whole silent treatment thing and you were eager to know what had happened.

“I’m sorry I assumed you were the one initiating the fight baby. Are you alright?”

JJ stayed quiet as he opened the door and walked in. He let you follow him to the bathroom where he sat down after splashing water in his face.

“I’m just so fucking tired of those Kooks thinking they can get away with anything, you know.”

You took a washcloth and held in under the tap for a second before helping JJ clean his face.

“I don’t like being chased when I know I’m gonna lose.” JJ did not look emotional, though the sadness on his voice gave it away. You take the littlest step closer to JJ, bringing his face up with your fingers under his chin.

“We will get through this, and you won’t be alone. I’ll always be here for you. Okay?”

JJ nodded before hugging you as tightly as he possibly could.

 John B

John B hates fighting with his partner as much as the next guy. He would usually try to be as understanding as he could, but as it turns out, was quick to jump to conclusions. John B also straight up told you when he thought something you did was annoying him, he would subtly address the issue to avoid arguments.

Which brings us to John B ‘subtly’ telling you your cheeseburger is smelling burned. You didn’t react and simply made your way over to the kitchen, only to find your cheeseburger still on the stove and John B not paying attention at all.

“Why didn’t you take it off?”

“I told you it was burning.”

“My god John B, why are you being such an ass?”

“At least I’m not the one who burned a burger.”

“You know what, you go make the fucking burger, asshole.”

You were yelling, not even sure why you were mad. You were frustrated and hungry, making a sandwich and sitting down across of him.

“Can you stop yelling at me?”

“Can you stop burning my burger?”

“I didn’t burn your fucking burger!”

And with that, John B got up and walked away.

~~~

A couple of hours later you decided to check on John B. He was out in the hammock. You walked up to him with two beers in your hands.

“Hey baby.”

You handed him a beer and sat down on the ground.

“I’m sorry for yelling, I was just frustrated and angry.”

“I’m sorry for letting your burger get burned.”

“So, you admit you burned it?”

“No, I just don’t want you to feel bad about it.” John B joked. You punched his arm and climbed into the hammock. John B is stubborn and would rarely admit his wrongs, so you mainly worked things out or dealt with it and moved on.

Sarah

Sarah and you don’t fight much to begin with, though sometimes the little things pile up. Sometimes you’d leave your shoes in the wrong place, leave the fridge open while making a sandwich or forget to charge your phone, leaving you unavailable and out of reach. Sarah would sometimes go through your closet and show up wearing your clothes, throw wet clothing into an empty laundry basket or forgets little stuff you ask her to do; such as watering the plants or putting the milk back in the fridge. These things aren’t bad or big things, not worth a fight at least. However, when you pile all these things up; the situation tends to get heavier. Right now, you heard Sarah cursing from your front door.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to leave your shoes right in front of the door?” Sarah got up off the floor and kicked your shoes to the side.

“I was just grabbing your soaking wet shirt from the laundry so it wouldn’t grow mold on it. Took me a whole second to put it up to dry and put my shoes back on to go outside.”

“Why can’t you just clean up behind yourself, Y/n? It’s all I’m asking.” “I could ask you the same.”

As said before: the two of you piled things up and they only got out when least convenient.

“Screw you, I’m going home and change.”

“Hey, I got some wet clothes for you, maybe you should put those on tonight.”

“Quit whining about that! You’re putting them in the washer anyways and mold doesn’t grow that fast.”

“Sarah, I live on my own. I don’t have mommy and daddy doing my wash 3 times a week.”

“Right but you do have the money to leave the fridge open for half an hour.”

“Half an hour? Really? It’s not even a money problem, I just don’t need to do laundry that often. Speaking of money, you have enough to buy your own clothes, why constantly steal mine?”

“I rarely do that!”

You two went back and forth for a while until Sarah left. You’d see her tonight.

~~~

You arrived at the party and immediately went looking for Sarah. You hated fighting with her, and you knew she did too. She isn’t one to lash out and curse at you like that. You knew you didn’t fuck up bad this time, luckily. Sarah isn’t one to forgive and forget easily, she knows what she’s worth.

“You didn’t even ask if I was okay.” You hear a voice say from behind you. You turned around, finding Sarah wearing one of your shirts.

“You were kind of yelling at me.”

“I was. I tried to call.”

“Battery’s dead.” It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, though a little awkward it sure was. You were the first to apologize, telling her you’ll stow away your shoes from now on. She promised she wouldn’t leave her wet clothes in the basket anymore and subtly told you the other things that got on her nerves.

“I was looking for that, by the way.” Sarah looked down at her shirt, which you were pointing at.

“I can take it off if you like?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Kiara

Kie can be a bit of a hothead. She’s a powerful woman and you love that about her. If there are two things you shouldn’t mess with around Kie, it’s the environment and her friends. You love and trust Kie, but the guys are always around her and flirting with her. You didn’t want to come over as a jealous partner but also can’t help but feel so annoyed when she kisses John B’s cheek. She hangs out with them all the time and sometimes you felt insecure; are you good enough for her? Fun enough for her? You let your insecurity get the best of you and asked Kie if she had any interest in the guys. She seemed slightly offended and a bit confused. When you told her to forget you asked, she wouldn’t stop bugging you.

“Do you think I like my friends? Do you really think that, Y/n?”

“No, I don’t know. Maybe they like you.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“Baby, of course I trust you I just worry about those Pogues making a-“

“Those Pogues.” She mocked you. Looking very offended right now.

“That came out wrong.”

You felt guilty for saying anything about it and not completely trusting her word. Though you were also a bit hurt she wouldn’t understand your side. Kie was very outspoken.

“Y/N, they are my friends and I love them. I don’t get why all of the sudden you have a problem with them.” Her speech went on for a while. You had some say in it as well, however whatever you said was not what she wanted to hear. The argument ended in Kie telling you she didn’t want to see you for a while. So, you left.

~~~

After 2 days of not talking, you decided to go to the restaurant Kiara’s dad owned. You knew she would be out all day and decided to wait on her a little longer. Once she finally did come home, she noticed you right of the bat.

“What are you doing here?” She sat down beside you, putting her bag on the bar. You turned to face her.

“I want to explain myself and apologize.” Kie nodded, as if to tell you ‘go on’. “I sometimes feel insecure, as if I’m not good enough for you. And seeing you around the guys all the time, kissing their cheeks and seeing them flirt with you, that’s hard to get used to. I like the guys; I don’t have anything against them. I just get insecure and wanted you to know. I’m sorry I worded it so bad and made you feel like I couldn’t trust you.”

Kie wrapped her arms around you.

“It’s okay. I just- These boys mean the world to me and it started to sound like I had to choose between you and them. That’s why I got so defensive. I’m sorry about that.”

The two of you had a drink and talked about you feeling insecure, the boys and how much you missed cuddling her the past few days.

 Rafe

Rafe and you fought often. Not big fights, just him being annoyed and you feeling like shit clash a lot. You were rarely the reason why Rafe was mad, it usually had something to do with his dad or sister.

You were currently picking up Rafe to go to a party when you found him in an argument with his dad. Ward has always been kind and respectful to you, yet you couldn’t help but feel a bit weirded out by him. By the sound of it they were arguing about some pills Ward found after the party last weekend. Rafe looked like he was about to explode on his father, so you decided to step in.

“Hey Rafe, Ward.” You greeted them as you walked in. “I kind of heard what you were talking about and I just want to say that a friend of mine brought those to the party, I’m sorry.” You had no clue where the pills came from, however you didn’t want Rafe getting into more fights with Ward. Ward looked at you as he spoke up.

“Y/N, good to see you,” his voice turned back to normal. “I think it would be better if you didn’t leave your stuff laying around, with Sarah and Wheezie around.”

You nodded and apologized to him, leaving the house with Rafe. The second you got into the car, Rafe exploded on you.

“I had it under control, Y/n.”

“I know baby, I just didn’t want you to-“

“Please just stay out of it next time. I don’t need you to cover for me.”

“I’m sorry baby.” You didn’t know what to say. You were doing him a favor?

“Just mind your own business okay.”

“Why are you being such a bitch about me helping you out?”

“Because I never needed your help.”

“Right you don’t need me.” You were hurt and in the moment of heat decided to get out of the car and slam the door. Leaving Rafe frustrated.

~~~

You walked a couple of streets, secretly hoping Rafe would follow you. He didn’t. You were upset and fed up. After a while you sat down, unsure of your next move. Right at that moment Ward’s car pulled up next to you and Rafe got out, running up to you.

“Are you here to yell at me some more? Cause I’ve learned my lesson.”

“I know I shouldn’t have yelled at you; I just..” he stopped as he sat down next to you “I really do not want my dad to think of you the way he thinks of me.”

Rafe can be very full of himself and act like the biggest asshole ever. But you knew how insecure he could be and how filled with issues he is. You pulled him into a hug and talked it over for a little while before heading to the party. You were wishing for the party to be over, as Rafe promised to make up for the yelling afterwards.

 Topper

Topper is very a very jealous and protective person. He can be so much fun when it’s just you, yet he always feels the need to make sure you’re his and sometimes it gets to you. Usually, you’d just tell him to chill and reassure him nothing is wrong.

Tonight however, he’s been by your side all night and showed no sign of planning to leave it. You on the other hand were eager to know what was happening in the basement of the Cameron residence. So, you kissed Toppers cheek and headed downstairs.

You noticed the group of people huddled around in the middle of the room, Rafe among them. Rafe was never up to any good. You asked what he had been up to and he let you in on a little secret, offering you some of the ‘stuff’ while at it. You kindly declined the offer and just hung out with the high crowd.

At some point you were playing a game and you ended up sitting on Rafe’s lap, due to the lack of chairs. At the same time, you noticed Topper coming down the basement. He walked right over to you and asked what you were doing. Rafe wasn’t paying attention in the slights to what was going on.

“Are you snorting?”

“Baby don’t worry, I’m just hanging out.”

You could barely hear a word he was saying over the loud music and people talking. Topper offered you his hand, which you took. You got up and followed Topper outside.

“Hey, what’s up-“

“Don’t what’s up me. I come looking, ‘cause you said you would only be gone a minute and I find you on top of Rafe, doing lines.”

“Topper I wasn’t even doing coke.”

“You don’t need to lie to me, baby.”

His voice wasn’t as mad as it had been, he sounded more threatening and monitory.

“It’s not even any of your damn business if I were!” It was your turn to be mad.

“Fucking hell, Y/n, you are my business!”

“I can’t handle you right now.” And with that you left Topper standing outside.

~~~

Topper hadn’t followed you after the party. He let you walk home alone, which you were less angry about than him ruining the party for you and starting a fight. It was the morning after the fight as you heard knocks on your door. You said to come in and Topper, holding a bag and flowers showed up.

“Good morning.”

“Morning Topper.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, that wasn’t fair of me.”

“Fuck you Topper, why were you even mad?”

He sat down next to you on your bed as you sat up straight. Topper put the flowers down at the end of your bed.

“Y/n, I am sorry for yelling at you yesterday. I’m sorry I acted like I didn’t trust you.”

Topper was always honest about his apologies. You pulled him in for a hug and he laid down next to you, giving you a kiss on the cheek on his way down.

“What’s in the bag?”

Topper grabbed the bag and showed you the breakfast he had brought over.

“Can’t show up empty handed, can I?”

[flipomatic]

Internship Chapter 30: Day 25 - Edric

Author Note: There are just 5 chapters left! Thanks for reading so far!

First Chapter Previous Chapter

__________________________________________________________

With only a couple days left in his internship, Edric was quite chipper. Sure, he would have to go back to school after this, but at least he wouldn’t be spending all day on his feet.

He met Frederick by the locker room as usual, with the other witch beating him there as he always did. They exchanged small talk while they walked to the dispatcher’s office.

Unusually, there was another coven member already inside the office with him. Edric didn’t know who it was until they spoke.

“Just the pair I was waiting for.” The coven member, now identifiable as Nick, much to Edric’s displeasure, said as the pair entered the room.

“Are we being deployed together?” Frederick asked. He had mentioned that he expected to be put in training today, after being in the field for the first three days of the week.

The dispatcher shook his head. “No, you’re being deployed. I need a minute though.” He then turned to Nick, tone sharpening. “What is it you want, exactly?” He sounded displeased.

Nick crossed his arms. “As I said, the intern should be assigned to me for the rest of the week.” So, he wanted to take Edric away from Frederick for the last two days. He must’ve been trying to gain favor with the Emperor, Edric figured.

“You still haven’t explained why.” The dispatcher sounded annoyed, as if this conversation was grating on his nerves. Edric could understand; he was also irritated by the topic.

“You heard about what happened last week, and just a couple days ago Frederick led him on an illegal arrest.” Nick uncrossed his arms so he could count those two reasons on his fingers. Hold up, both of those things happened because of where they were deployed. Neither was Frederick’s fault.

“Excuse me,” Frederick intervened in the argument before Edric could. “Both of those situations turned out fine.”

The dispatcher wasn’t impressed either. “One slip up isn’t enough to strip his responsibilities away. Besides, neither you nor I have the authority to do that.”

“We both know that nobody higher up will object.” Nick pressed harder, his tone insistent. He leaned over the table, hovering over the dispatcher.

The dispatcher wasn’t caving. “No, and that’s final.” With that said, he turned back to Frederick and Edric. “The two of you are being sent on some reconnaissance today.”

He shifted through his papers, taking a couple photos out of the stack. As he rifled through, Nick huffed and stormed out of the office. Good riddance, Edric didn’t like him anyway.

The pictures showed a couple different angles of a rundown building with broken windows. The walls looked damaged and crumbling. “This building was recently abandoned. We need to make sure it’s actually empty. Check it out, see what you can find.” He cast an illusion quickly, which made a large map of the city appear behind him. To west of town, a yellow dot flashed. “It’s located here, you can get there by palisman.”

“Alright, we’ll take a look around.” Frederick examined the map carefully and took the photos, before fetching a palisman staff from the supply.

The two left the dispatcher’s office without another word, heading outside to fly to their destination. Frederick didn’t offer any comments about why Nick was trying to get Edric assigned to him, and there was no way Edric was going to bring the topic up.

Once they were on the palisman, flying high above the city, Frederick finally spoke. “Be careful today.” He said, glancing back at Edric. “The building looks unstable, so watch your step.”

“I will.” Edric replied, having to raise his voice to be heard over the wind. The conversation died almost as soon as it started, with only the whoosh of rushing air to accompany them. Edric wondered what Frederick was thinking about, but he had yet to invent a mind reading spell to find out.

After a few more minutes of flying, they left the edge of Bonesborough. The next area consisted of fields and scattered buildings. When their target was in sight, Frederick took the photo out to double check that they were at the right building. It seemed to check out, so they landed in front of the building.

The building was two stories tall, with white peeling paint on the walls. The few windows were smashed, and the front door was ajar. The grass around the house was overgrown, as if it hadn’t been cared for in at least six months.

“Got your sword?” Frederick asked as they walked towards the entrance.

“Yup.” Edric patted it on his hip.

“Be ready in case there’s trouble.” Frederick cast a spell as they reached the door, which caused a ball of light to appear in his hand. He stepped slowly into the house, leading with that light.

Edric cast a similar spell as he followed, creating a small beam of light that he could direct with his hand. Upon entering, Edric was hit with the overwhelming smell of mold. This building had clearly been abandoned for a while.

They started on the first floor, with Frederick leading the way. They looked in each of the rooms, checking for anything worth reporting back about. They didn’t find much besides dirt, dust, mold, cracks in the walls, and abandoned garbage.

In the kitchen, Edric tried to turn the sink on. Unsurprisingly, no water came out. “Utilities have been shut off.” He commented to Frederick, who nodded.

“It’s been empty for a while.” Frederick replied, scooping a layer dust off the counter with one finger and examining it closely. A bug skittered away towards the corner, causing Edric to flinch away. Frederick didn’t react to it. “Let’s check upstairs.” He said as he turned away from the counter and walked back towards the center of the building.

They then went up the stairs, with Frederick again in the lead. He took each step slowly, making sure that the whole thing wasn’t about to collapse under his feet. Even going second, Edric felt uneasy. He was getting a strange vibe from this place, was it haunted or something? It felt like residual magic as he walked up the stairs, but that shouldn’t have been the case.

At the top of the steps, there was a straight hallway with a few doors. Frederick went to the closer ones first, looking in at what looked like offices.

When they reached the end of the hallway, things started to go wrong.

Like he had for all the other rooms, Frederick stepped through the door first. This time though, unlike all the others, there was a reaction. A spot on the ground in the doorway glowed a moment after he stepped past. Edric backed away when he saw it, only making it half a step before the floor started to shake.

Frederick spun around when he felt it, but it was too late. “Get back!” He shouted, taking one futile step towards the door. The doorframe cracked and fell in before he could make it, parts of the walls and ceiling coming not long after. Shafts of light came in through the gaps. Edric backed even farther away, as the floor fragmented beneath his feet, bumping his back against the wall of the hallway. The rubble at the door fell through the floor, causing cracks to web out from the spot. A huge cloud of dust flew up when the rubble landed, making Edric cough and keeping him from seeing through.

“Frederick!” He called out between coughs, hoping the other witch would respond.

There was no reply.

Well, that was bad. Edric cast another light spell to try and get more light, though he knew it probably wouldn’t help.

After a minute, the floor stopped shaking.

For the time being, it seemed like the building was done collapsing. Slowly the dust started to settle, allowing Edric to see the damage. Where there had been a room before, there now was a huge hole in the ground and the walls. When Edric peered through it, he could see what looked like the kitchen below. It was full of rubble, pieces of the floor and walls that had fallen through. He couldn’t see Frederick, but he had to be down there.

Edric scrambled back to the stairs, running down to get to the rubble. When he reached the room, it looked even worse than from above.

“Hey, Frederick, you in there?” Edric called, pushing a slab closest to the door to move it. It was heaving, far too heavy to lift.

This time, he got a response. The sound of coughing, not usually welcome, guided Edric in the right direction. “I’m here.” Frederick’s voice was weaker than usual, though that could’ve been because it had to travel through the rubble. Edric moved towards the sound, stopping at a large pile of rubble.

“I’m gonna get you out.” Edric cast a net spell, then layered in a spell that enhanced muscle strength. It wasn’t one he used often, but he knew it. He slung the net over a particularly large rock, then tried to pull it out of position. Even with the strengthening spell, he wasn’t able to budge it.

Frederick coughed again, a rougher sound than before. “Stand back.” He said, which was not an instruction Edric really wanted to obey. “I’ll get it.”

“Are you sure?” Edric asked, switching to trying to move the boulder with his body. He cast the anti friction spell beneath it, but that only let him move it a few inches.

“Yes.” Frederick’s voice was clearer. “Go.”

Edric frowned, but complied. He stepped away from the pile of rubble, back to the doorway of the room. “Okay, I’m away.”

The sound that came next was so grating, Edric had to cover his ears and duck mostly out of the room. It seemed to be some kind of bard magic, radiating from the rubble.

Though it sounded awful, it worked wonders on the rocks and pieces of floor. They shook themselves apart, breaking into much smaller pieces. After a moment Frederick became visible underneath, his small foldable flute lifted to his lips. After a few moments he stopped playing, arms and flute dropping to his lap.

Edric crossed the room quickly, kneeling down next to him. “You okay?” He asked, knowing the answer was probably no.

Fredrick was taking deep breaths, likely trying to regain his strength himself. He lifted a hand, slowly, and cast a healing spell. “I’ll live. Are you hurt?”

Typical Frederick, worrying about him even after falling ten feet and almost being crushed to death. “No, I’m fine.” Edric wished he had mastered that healing spell. He plopped the rest of the way onto the ground, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“I’m glad.” Frederick cast a second healing spell, his hands already steadier than when he cast the first. “Do you know what triggered the collapse?” He asked, already in investigation mode despite still looking like he couldn’t stand.

Edric thought he might’ve. “There was a flash of light on the floor, right in the door.”

“Sounds like a spell.” Fredrick mused. He started to brush the dust and broken fragments off his clothes. “We should check it out.”

Edric didn’t move. “Just rest for a little.” He said, feeling like the rational voice in the room for the first time.

Frederick ignored him at first, but when he tried to stand he immediately sat back down with a grunt. “Fine, but just until I’m healed enough to move.” He cast another healing spell, with a larger spell circle this time.

“Yes sir.” Edric quipped in response, lightening his tone. It had been one crazy thing after another for the last week, with this as officially the wildest thing that happened so far. Hopefully nothing crazier happened, or he’d have to adjust that statement.

Edric picked up his knees and placed his arms on them, then lifted his mask to press his forehead against them. He closed his eyes, just for a minute, to calm his still racing heart. He could hear Frederick cast another spell beside him.

After a couple minutes, a rustling sound prompted Edric to open his eyes and sit up. Frederick was now on his feet, stretching his arms slowly.

“Let’s go.” Frederick said as his arms fell back to his sides. Edric rose to his feet slowly, muscles already complaining from his attempts to move the rubble earlier.

The two walked back through the house, heading back up the stairs. They did this even slower than before, since there was a higher risk of collapse. Luckily, the stairs held.

All of the dust had settled now, making a clearer image than before. The hole still looked huge, but Edric could see the ground around it much more clearly. Right at the edge, the floor looked to be fragmented strangely. The breaks at the edge were in straight lines and corners, while the cracks spreading away from the edge moved in random patterns. The sunlight was coming in strong through the new holes in the ceiling, so they didn’t need light spells to see properly.

“It was definitely a spell.” Frederick mused out loud as he examined the floor. “It must’ve been embedded in the floor.”

“Is that possible?” Edric had never heard of something like that. As far as he had learned, a witch needed to be present to cast a spell. Sure, small illusions could be triggered as traps, but they didn’t do anything except store an image. They didn’t have enough power to do something like this.

Frederick nodded. “It is, but only for the best of the best. A common witch couldn’t have done this. A trap this powerful can only be maintained for about a day.”

So it had to be a strong witch, one who had access to this building recently. That was strange though; the building had been abandoned.

“Wait.” Edric’s mind was spinning. “Are you saying a powerful witch tried to kill us?” If the spell had to be set recently, and the two of them had been assigned there that morning, wasn’t that the only logical conclusion?

“Not necessarily.” Frederick crossed his arms, stepping back from the hole in the ground. “I can’t imagine someone would try to attack you.”

That was where Frederick was mistaken. “I wasn’t the target.” Edric shook his head. “You were.” The pieces were starting to come together. He knew what was going on.

“The coven will investigate.” Frederick took out a piece of paper and started drawing the scene.

“Don’t tell them yet.” Edric said, drawing Frederick’s attention back to him.

Frederick sounded skeptical, doubtful. “Why not?” He was still working on his drawing.

“If you report it, they’ll cover their tracks. I have to find them before then.” Edric was confident that he knew who it was.

“You think this was an inside job? I’m not sure about that. It should be left to the coven.” Frederick insisted, abandoning his drawing to look fully at Edric.

“Do you trust me?” Edric countered with a question, an important one.

“Does that matter?”

Edric pushed harder. “Do you?” After all this time, it did.

Frederick sighed. “Yes.” He seemed reluctant to admit it, though that was only because Edric was pressuring him.

“Just tell them the building was abandoned. I’ll find out who did it.”

Reluctantly, Frederick agreed. Edric’s mind was churning again, this time running through plans.

He was going to need some help with this. Luckily, he knew just the witch for the job.

Next Chapter

[creativeskullcreations]

Outside chapter 12: Move Out!

Whoo, got this up in time! :D

And we're meeting Stacy's other two friends! I hope y'all like them, or at least grow to like them cause we'll be seeing them a lot more in the coming chapters. They're important to the story. ;D

The apartment was full of boxes of Stacy's stuff that Will had spent however long packing for her. To the young woman, who hadn't been home in weeks, it was an odd feeling seeing her home in boxes, with her shelves and closet empty. Currently she was helping to move said boxes into the U Haul outside. By which I mean she was holding the door for Will and Mason, who were the ones actually moving the boxes. While the boys were busy, Lisa was cleaning out the cupboards and fridge, which Will had forgotten about completely despite being there so often.

"Seriously, Will! You've been over here for how many days, and never thought to check the fridge for leftovers?" Lisa asked as she threw the food, Tupperware and all, into the trash. "What, were you just bringing food from home everyday?"

"Yes." Will answered seriously, not looking up from his work. The blonde woman stared dumbfounded before rolling her eyes.

"Unbelievable! Mason! You hearing this shit?" She called. Mason gave a thumbs up as he walked by, arms laden with shoe boxes. Stacy watched him closely, not wanting to lose her old games in case he dropped them. Not that she could do much to catch them with only one arm, but she could at least yell at him for it.

"It's not that big a deal, Lisa." She told her friend, after making sure Mason could navigate the stairs okay. "Really, most of the stuff in there had probably already gone bad anyways."

"That's not the point! It's still a waste!" The blonde insisted, dumping a bottle of juice with clouds of mold floating in it into the trash. Stacy winced, knowing she'd bought that back in December and then forgotten about it. It was still mostly full, too.

"Yeah..." She moved back to the couch, where she'd left her bag. Inside the bag was Scout with the Switch. It was a risk bringing her while they did this, but somehow Stacy felt it would be a bigger risk to leave her behind. So she'd brought her along, making her she had the Switch to stay entertained, even if she had to keep the sound off. And so far, nobody seemed to have noticed.

She opened the bag, peering inside. The Puppet was curled up in the bottom, the Switch off and sitting next to her. "Hey, you okay in there?" She asked quietly.

"I'm fine!" Scout hissed back. "Close the fucking bag!" Stacy did so, zipping it all the way shut and leaving it on the couch. She sat next to it, watching the others work to pack up her home, moving the boxes down to the U Haul in the street. She wanted to help, but the few times she attempted to she dropped stuff, and then Will finally made her stop.

Still, she felt restless, so much so that eventually she grabbed her bag and stood up. "Hey, I'm going for a walk! I'll be back later!" She called out. Mason, who was nearby, gave her a wave of acknowledgement.

"Don't get eaten by the gators." He told her. She waved back, but ignored him as she went down the stairs, pausing just at the door to open it back up and grab Scout out of it.

"Hey!" She protested, but Stacy ignored her, holding her in the crook of her right arm as she swung her bag back on. It was difficult to do one handed, and she did need to try and maneuver around Scout, but she managed to get it back on

"We're going for a walk. You need some air." She told the Puppet as she did this. Said Puppet still struggled to try and break free, pounding fabric fists against her arm.

"No I fucking don't! I need to go back in the bag!" She fought against her Host, but was ignored as Stacy continued out of the lobby and walked down the sidewalk outside.   Eventually she gave up, realizing that her fighting would only attract the attention of strangers. Instead she huddled back against Stacy's body at the largeness of the world around her, that she only now viewed completely unobscured. She stared with wide eyes as the human hurried her way down the street, crossing it periodically, until she came to a place empty of buildings.

Greenery covered the area, a shade the Puppet had never seen before in fact. There was a large body of water in the middle, and some odd, colorful object in one "corner" of the area. Tiny Hosts, children, were playing on the objects, but Stacy went right by them. Instead she headed down the path to a more secluded and wooded area. She sat cross-legged by a tree, finally letting Scout go. The Puppet flopped over in her lap.

"Why are we even out here?" She griped, staring at the grass. There was a weird red bug not far away, that she hoped wouldn't come close to them. If it even tried she would smack it.

"Because you need fresh air. You can't just hide in the bag all day, no matter what Will says." Stacy told her. "Besides, I don't like watching them do all that for me, knowing I can't help them." She very much did NOT look at her stump, absolutely not. Instead she stared through the trees at the still somewhat visible lake. There were ducks on it, and she could see a couple of people feeding them.

She wondered if Scout would like feeding them.

Rather than getting up, though, she stayed seated, letting Scout look around instead. She'd been meaning to bring the Puppet out here, but hadn't had a chance before the hospitalization. And then there was the remainder of the healing, taken place at Will house - now her and Will's house - during which he'd barely let her out of sight. It was only after an intense, whispered argument that he'd even begun to let up and allow her to do stuff for herself again, though he'd still hovered.

And now they were finishing packing up her apartment, ready to make the move complete. It was a shame, in her mind. She really did love her independence. But, it was better for everyone involved if this move happened. Especially Scout. If her and Will staggered their schedules, someone could be with her at all times.

(Stacy didn't know yet why that was so important, though. She just knew she didn't want Scout alone.)

But now, at least, she could take Scout out to enjoy some nature. And even now she had crawled down to the ground to pick at the grass, and Stacy winced when she thought of the grass stains that would form. But, she didn't stop her, letting her explore around a little, and look at things. Scout even picked up a stick, though she only used it to swat a ladybug.

Soon the Puppet climbed back into her lap, looking mildly disgusted and agitated. "I hate it here. It smells fucking weird, and I want to go back to your house."

Stacy snorted, but complied, getting up with only a little difficulty. Scout climbed up to her shoulder, stick still in hand. "Fine, we'll go back. It's almost lunch time anyways. Also what you're smelling is the trees and grass."

"The trees and grass fucking stink." Scout grumbled, and Stacy did laugh quietly at that, and got smacked lightly with the stick for it.

"Well, you're not wrong." She admitted, grabbing the stick away from the Puppet and dropping it on the ground. "It can be kinda an acquired taste, so to speak."

"Ew." Scout muttered, covering her nose as they started back the way they'd come. She glared suspiciously at the plants as they passed, as though she was worried they'd spray their stench right at her.

Stacy wondered what she'd think about skunks when she found out about them.

They made their way back to Stacy's apartment in silence, though it was a more comfortable silence than before. As Stacy made her way back upstairs to her apartment, Scout took the chance to hide in the bag. Stacy may believe her friends were good, but that didn't mean Scout did. Not that it mattered much, anyways.

Soon after Stacy got back, the group decided to go for lunch, which really just meant that Mason went to get McDonald's. Stacy asked for a Happy Meal, then slipped the opened toy into her bag for Scout when no one was looking. She didn't know if the Puppet would even want the little Barbie, but it certainly didn't hurt to offer it up.

They all ate quickly, talking and laughing as they did. Lisa ribbed Will on when he would propose, now that they were living together. "You only have so long before her other hand goes." She pointed out jokingly. "Then where will you put the ring?"

Will just shrugged, and Stacy pelted her with chicken nuggets. Mason laughed.

"The neck, obviously. She'd need a nice collar to help keep her out of trouble." He explained. "I could even make you a fancy chain for night time if you need it."

"Wow!" Stacy gave an over exaggerated gasped, though she wasn't really offended. Far too often had she sneaked out at night to go explore some place or another. "And right after I threw my nuggets at Lisa, too!"

"Don't fault me on my timing!" Will smacked a ketchup packet on the back of his head, making a horrid squelching sound. "Ew! Will!" The man's voice jumped up several octaves, but Will just kept on chewing his burger.

"Oof. That's gonna need a shower. You're showering when we get home Mason." Lisa said as he tried to clean his hair with some napkins.

Eventually, though, they managed to finish eating and get back to packing. And after that it wasn't long before all of the boxes loaded up into the U Haul. As they filtered out, Mason, Will, and Lisa carrying the last few boxes, Stacy paused to take one last look.

The living room looked just like it had before she moved in. Kind of sad, really, even with the memories it brought back. She could almost see herself and her family helping her move in four years ago, and remembered the excitement she'd felt back then. Or when she'd bring Will over, before he'd moved out here himself, and how much fun they'd have.

She didn't want to leave. Will had to come back up and lead her out, then drop the keys off at the office with her.

Stacy got into the U Haul with Mason and they made their way to Will's house. They would unload it tomorrow, with another fast-food lunch somewhere in there. Until then they were all due for a good night's sleep and some real food for supper.

After Mason and Lisa left and Will started on dinner, Stacy opened up her bag to finally let Scout out. "Finally!" The Puppet gasped out dramatically, flopping out onto the couch. "I though I was going to fucking die!"

"Oh please, you were fine." Stacy snorted. "And don't worry, tomorrow we'll be working here and you can stay in the bedroom. I'll make sure Lisa and Mason stay out of there."

"Uuuuugh!" She groaned, rolling onto her back. "How much longer do I have to deal with them?!" She yelled at, and Stacy almost did laugh at that.

"You aren't dealing with anything but being in the bedroom." She told the Puppet, standing up to go set the table. "Do you wanna eat supper with us tonight?" She asked, more than a little hopeful.

"Nah, you guys go on ahead." She said, already making her way across the couch to the remote. "I found this cool show I wanna watch instead."

"Oh. Did you want me to bring you some food, then?" Stacy hoped she would say yes. She didn't know for sure if Scout needed to eat, but didn't want her to go hungry either way.

"Nope." The Puppet said, in a tone that signaled the end of any discussion on it. Stacy didn't push, and instead went into the kitchen herself. She leaned on the counter on her good hand and sighed heavily.

"You can't make her eat or join us if she doesn't want to." Will told her, deadpan. Stacy pouted.

"I know. But!" She shot up. "What if she needs to eat? What if she starves herself because of something I did? Or because she hates it here?" Will stopped stirring the meat in the pan, fixing his girlfriend with a hard stare.

"Stop freaking out." He told her, then blinked as he realized something. "Wait... Did you take your meds today?" He asked.

"No they need to be refilled. But I'm fine without them, these are real concerns, Will!" She insisted, and he just sighed, turning back to the pan.

"Yeah... we're getting those refilled as soon as possible." He muttered, though not quietly enough.

'Will!" Stacy smacked the counter, but was ignored.

[adamdriverwrites]

Carpe Noctem || Part 1

Plot summary: Mob boss’s daughter & bodyguard au ft. Kylo Ren. Based off this plot bunny (x)

Warnings: extreme violence, swearing, sexual themes, mentions of non consensual sexual violence, drug use and other explicit themes in this story.

Word count: 3734

Pairing: Kylo Ren/Reader

A/N: here is chapter one, im super excited to delve into this, enjoy! tell me what you think!

Taglist: let me know if you want to be added!

Masterlist here

After all these years being away from your home, you didn’t think that the reason for your return would be under such unfortunate circumstances. One of your brothers going to jail, perhaps, but not the funeral of your beloved sister. You weren’t close with your family, you talked to your Father every couple of months when you needed him to send money to help with university fees and such, but it had been a very long time since you had seen any of them in person.

Mallory was the only one that bothered to visit you - lugging herself halfway across the world to spend Christmas or your birthday together.

You thought you felt hopeless and alone before…

You hadn’t talked to your Dad since that night, save for a lone email telling him you would fly in on Thursday and be staying for an unknown amount of time. You didn’t know what to say, and didn’t want to talk to anyone. You reveled in your silence, grabbing an uber home instead of asking him or one of your brothers for a ride. You landed at 1 pm in New York and figured they would be busy. The driver tried to make small talk, but you kept it to a minimum. Directing him where to go, he drove out of the city, entering suburbia and continuing on until the distance between properties grew far greater. Leading him to a particular neighborhood of large mansions separated by sprawling fields and lush forests until you arrived at your driveway. Driving down the long, winding gravel road, large willow trees lining either side, the two of you maneuvered around the circular driveway. pulling up to a stop at the front door. You peered out the window, looking at the dark stone and large glass, the cold Snoke family manor standing tall in front of you. It looked exactly the same as you remembered. Whispering a thanks, you made exit with your one measly suitcase full of belongings.

You had made a silent promise to yourself you wouldn’t come back for as long as you could get away with it. No one could hold a grudge like you, and when your father sent you away to boarding school at the tender age of 13 you never really forgot how much it hurt.

You had come home for one Christmas holidays when you were 16. It had been such a disaster that you hadn’t been back since.

8 years…. The spell broken all because of Mallory. She had been begging you to come home for a long time. And it would seem she finally got her way. You just hated that she wasn’t here to see it.

Walking up to the front door, you grabbed the handle and pushed, only to be met with a force. You almost headbutted the hard, black painted wood, before realizing it was locked. With a sigh and a curse, you knocked on it with your knuckles. Fancy being locked out of your own house…

There was no answer, and you knocked again, this time your fist pounding harder against the door.

A muffled voice came from inside, muttering they were ‘coming and to ’chill the fuck out’. You held your breath, nerves rising to the precipice, you crossed your fingers and toes it wasn’t your brother Lyon. The door swung open, a gust of wind blowing your hair around your face and you were met with someone familiar.

Dark skin, black hair, and a dashingly perfect smile that reminded you of being a kid.

Finn breathed out your name, his smile growing wider as he pulled you in for a hug, lifting you off the ground in the process. You smiled back, dropping your duffel bag to wrap both arms around him in return.

“Welcome home!” He laughed, separating to look at you again. You went to reach for your luggage but he was quick to pick it up. His eyes met yours again and he maintained his smile, looking you over before he shook his head. “Look at you. All grown up.”

You gave him a wry smile. “That’s the funny thing about time…” you looked past him at the wide expanse of the foyer, proceeding to walk through the doorway. Glistening black, white and cream marble, elaborate moldings and every inch sparkling clean. It all looked exactly the same. “Although, I could say the same about you.“

You had a bit of a crush on Finn growing up. He was closest to your age, but still a little older that you revered his actions and jokes like he was the funniest guy on the planet. He was always around because his Dad worked for your Father, and even though he was friends with your older brother’s, he was always so nice to you. Even if you were an annoying little kid. Giving you  a sideways smirk, he used his free arm to curl up and show off his arms, flexing and tensing his muscles. "Well, I uh, have been hitting the gym pretty hard lately.”

“I can tell.” You smiled, if not speaking the truth then only to bolster his confidence he was clearly searching for. You walked deeper into the foyer, eyes casting upward at the tall ceilings. After all these years, you had forgotten how expansive and extravagant it really was. All of it was a nostalgic fueled kick in the face.

“Hey, listen, I’m sorry about Mallory-”

“Me too.” You cut him off. If anything to shut down the conversation so you wouldn’t have to talk about it. “Is Dad home?”

“Yeah. He’s in his office. C'mon,” He shut the large double doors behind him and the two of you walked forward. You glanced at the sprawling hallway in front of you, walking underneath the double curving stairways on either side. As you ventured further, soft voices could be heard. The voices increased in volume, none of them readily recognizable, all sounds merging to create a deep baritone completely unfamiliar to your ears.

“He’s been holed up in his office for the past few days.” Finn explained quietly to you, pushing towards the rumpus room. “You might just be able to pull him out of his funk.”

You sniggered bitterly. “I’m about to make it worse.”

Finn looked back at you. “Don’t say that. He loves you, you know.”

The snigger turned into a small laugh. Agreeing again only to move past the conversation and be done with it. “Yeah.”

You two stopped outside the double doors of the recreation room. Glancing inside the smokey dwelling, you saw no familiar faces. You could rest easy for another minute knowing that you weren’t about to run into any of your brothers. There was about 5 men scattered about, talking, laughing, drinking and smoking. The room was long, filled with a large pool table placed in the center, floor to ceiling bookshelves covered the walls, separated only by windows that peered into the front and the back of the property. Black leather chesterfield sofas pushed to the sides of the room with a few coffee tables littered nearby. It continued on, ending with two more large double doors that led to your Father’s office. You always hated that daunting walk when you were a kid. You gathered it was a deterrent your Dad set in place so he didn’t have to talk to his children that often. They were less likely to walk through a room of gangsters and criminals just to bug their Father when he was working.

“Go on through. I’ll take your stuff up to your room for you.”

“Thanks, Finn.”

You stepped forward, ignoring the looks from people you didn’t recognize, keeping your eyes trained on the doors at the end of the room.

“Holy. Shit.” Your head turned to the voice, and leaning against the bookcase in the dark corner of the room and smoking a cigarette was Phasma. She walked into the light, towering over your short figure, looking almost exactly the same as you remembered. Gorgeous blonde hair in perfectly in place and immaculately tailored suit adorning her as always.

You let a genuine smile curve your lips, and you met her halfway. Phasma was one of the very few people who you could have said you had actually missed. “The prodigal daughter returns…” her smirk copied your own, and her blue eyes cast over your form. “Looking good, Snoke.”

“You too.” You smiled and eyed her cigarette. Maybe it would help your nerves. “Can I please have one of those?”

She pulled an extra from the pack in her pocket and handed it over. “Don’t tell him you got it from me.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Gwen.”

“I guess not.” She eyed your figure, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Alright,” you sighed heavily, coming to the realization this might be harder than you thought it was going to be. “Time to bite the bullet. Wish me luck.”

She stepped aside with a soft smile. Gripping the cigarette in your hand, you walked forward, ignoring the other eyes in the room staring at you. All faceless lackeys, ready to die for your Father’s cause. Coming to a stop in front of the large double, oak doors, lacquered completely in a dark stain, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself. You hadn’t seen your Father in years, and although you had talked, him seeing your face was a different story. The reason he sent you away in the first place was only more prominent now. Raising your fist, you knocked on the door and waited patiently for an answer. Nostalgia kicking in once more, like all the times you were a kid, standing outside this very door and waiting for your Father to beckon you inside.

God, that was shit you would have preferred to forget.

A muffled reply beckoned you to ’come in’. Your hand that was vacant of your unlit cigarette gripped the black iron door knob, lion’s head in a roaring position. Some more gaudy detailing. Twisting it with much more force than necessary, you pushed the heavy door and entered.

The room was smoky, the smell of tobacco assaulting your senses first. The room was slightly darker than the recreation room, and when you shut the door behind you, you realized it was deathly quiet. Noise from the outside barely distinguishable in the fortress that was your Father’s office. A stark contrast to the loud men outside drinking and smoking and playing pool and having fun. This was suddenly the sordid den reserved for strategical talks you weren’t privy to as a kid.

His desk stood center at the far end, two back leather chairs in front, facing it. You noticed an unfamiliar man first, facing away from you. Only the back of his head and broad shoulders visible. Then your eyes fluttered to your Father, leaned back in his chair, head resting softly in his hand, eyes focused on the unknown man before they ventured up towards you. He sat up quickly, his position changing the second he realized who had just entered.

“Hi.” He looked the same as you remembered, if only with a few more wrinkles and more grey hair, though the dark bags under his eyes suggested he was feeling more human than usual.

When your Father stood up and made his way around his desk, the unknown man turned to glance in your direction, and his eyes met your own. Eyebrow perking slightly as he looked at you fully.

“Wow, kiddo.” the proximity of your Father’s voice caught your attention again, and you turned to see he was close. Bright blue eyes glancing all over your face, and a smile covering his lips, before his arms surrounded you and pulled you in for a hug. He was taller than you, and your face pressed against his chest. You frowned at the feeling of contact; not because it was unpleasant, just unfamiliar. You didn’t know which one of those was more sad. Before you could even think about raising your arms from your side to wrap them around him in return, he pulled away. Hands grasping your shoulders as held you in front of him. “Look at you. You’re all grown up, and…” His voice trailed off as his eyes shined with something darker, more solemn.  "You look just like her.“

And there it was. The words you didn’t want to hear out of your Father’s mouth. Like you didn’t live in your Mother’s shadow enough already. You were almost all out of fake smiles at the sound of that comment. You gifted a half-assed one to him out of respect for Mallory’s memory.

"It’s so good to have you back home.” you bit back a snarky comment about why the fuck he would send you away in the first place then, also out of respect for your sister. You guess you still harbored some resentment. You pegged it down to your overwhelmed senses and assaulted nostalgia. Being back home was making you feel a lot of things in a very short amount of time, it was hard to cope. “It’s been a while, sweetheart.”

“Yeah.” Your eyes shifted in the direction of the man behind your father. He was now standing, dark eyes staring at you and your interaction with your Dad. A penetrating gaze that seemed like he was assessing you and your words intently. You didn’t recognize him, and you definitely would have remembered a man looking like that working for your father. Strong roman nose, black eyes that looked like he could kill, a scar running down the right side of his face, broad shoulders and large muscles wound tightly under the fabric of his black suit. An intimidating presence indeed.

“That’s Kylo.” Your Father spoke, walking around his desk. You instinctively followed him, walking towards the man he just introduced, and as you approached the seat, his eyes raked over your form. “Kylo, this is my daughter.”

“Hello.” A quiet voice erupted from your lips, one that you were unfamiliar with. You weren’t even entirely sure it was your own. You blamed this new man, and his piercing gaze. He didn’t speak, or smile a hello in return, only looked you up and down as you moved to sit in a chair, then walked away to the side of the room without a word.

Jesus fucking Christ. Who was this guy?

“He will be…” your Father’s words paused and you looked back at him to see him hesitant, “Looking after you while you’re here.”

“What?”

“Since Mallory’s passing, I have assigned some of my men to your brother’s. Kylo is my best man, and I’ve assigned him to you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed deeply. Was he serious? “You want me to have a bodyguard?”

“What happened to Mallory– I don’t think was an accident, and before she…” your Father hesitated once more. Words catching in his throat. You leaned forward in your seat, eager to hear the words spill from his lips. Before Mallory what? You had so many questions, and after the long flight with no sleep the amount of questions had doubled, tripled. You had fought sleep with the processing of information and trying to deal with it in your own way; paranoia fueled reasoning. You wanted to question him intently, but not in front of company, and not while being home all of 5 minutes. But the fact he didn’t think it was an accident? That perhaps Mallory’s death could have been intentional? Now, that was the sort of shit you wanted to hear desperately.

“Some things happened with work,” he continued, “And I don’t want to bury any more of my children. So Kylo will be looking after you while we get to the bottom of this.”

Your gaze flipped over to the man in the corner of the room, back towards you, pouring a drink from the crystal decanter full of scotch. He turned, and you noticed a lit cigarette now dangling between his large fingers. He eyed you with the same look; devoid of any emotion and impossibly hard to read. Though one thing you could infer by the way he stared at you, he didn’t look like it was his first choice of preferred activity; looking after the boss’s daughter. You let your mind wander to the possibilities of his position working under your Father. He didn’t seem like the usual lackey that hung around the Snoke manor, so what the hell did he do exactly?

“No.”

“No?” He questioned you, surprised at the notion. You gathered it had been a long time since anyone had the balls to tell him ‘no’.

“I don’t need a bodyguard. I haven’t been home since I was 16. No one knows who I am, and if they do, then they don’t know what I look like.” A lie, though you stood by the conviction in your voice. “I’ll be fine. I can look after myself.” Another lie.

“Sorry, kiddo, but that’s not going to happen,” Something behind his eyes changed and his voice softened an infinitesimal amount, staring deep at your face. Another first. Fuck, something must have been wrong. “you’re all I got left.”

You so desperately wanted to tell him that ’you weren’t her’, and that you weren’t destined to fall to the same fate as your Mother. However, the look on his face and the intent behind his eyes, you knew he wouldn’t budge. Stubborn old fool set in his ways. But that didn’t mean you had to do exactly what he said, so you begrudgingly accepted with a nod of your head. Easily ignoring the sentiment behind his comment, especially when you had a whole childhood of neglect at your disposal.

“What time is the funeral tomorrow?"You changed the topic, already eager to talk about something else.

"2 p.m, Greenwood Cemetery…” His eyes cast over his desk. “She’s being buried next to your mother.”

“Okay.” you nodded your head and placed the cigarette you had been holding between your lips. Your father had never seen you smoke, and you figured it wasn’t a secret worth keeping if you were going to be here an undisclosed amount of time. “Well, I’m going to go unpack, sleep off this jet lag.”

You stood up before any more words could be spoken. Already well over this conversation. You glanced in your Father’s direction before turning around and walking towards the exit. Your eyes locked with Kylo’s once more, finding that he was still very intently observing you. You didn’t like that one bit.

Leaving through the doors, you were immediately hit with the loud noise of laughter and pool cues hitting balls - a stark contrast compared to the deathly silence in your Father’s office, and you were grateful that interaction was over.

You were quick to make it out of the room, through the long hallways, up the winding stairs and to the east wing of the Snoke manor. Your bedroom was far away from the madness of the central part of the house. You hoped that most of this trip could be spent in relative solitude, if you kept away then maybe it could even be remembered as bearable.

You ventured to end of the eastern hallway, quiet compared to a lot of the house. Your bedroom doors were left open, you assumed by Finn, who had also placed your suitcase on top of your bed. You walked further in, closing the dark wood doors behind you, and glanced around. It was much like the rest of the house, tall ceilings with elaborate moldings and designs. Floor to ceiling windows contrasted with large red velvet curtains, perfect for keeping out the penetrating sunlight. Your room was almost the whole size of your apartment back home, and you forgot exactly how expansive this place was. Well, there was 16 bedrooms, a green house and a hedge maze, so how could you truly be surprised? Your family loved extravagance and wide open spaces, and if your father was still running the same way he used to, he needed somewhere to keep all his lackeys that resided on the property, and he liked that far away from his own quarters.  

There was hardly any furniture save for a large bed, and a slightly outdated tv and stereo system, and your vanity table. Though all surfaces in your room were lacking a layer of dust suggesting this room wasn’t as absent as it had been for all these years. You gathered your father had his cleaners in here before you arrived and made this room relatively hospitable.

Mallory’s soft voice ran through your head, ’He never lets anyone in there, you know. Just like your car in the dark, dingy part of the garage, no one’s allowed to touch your stuff’. You had sighed and told her to shut up, she always rambled when she was drunk. ’It’s like he’s waiting for you to come back.’

You went over to the vanity, hoping that everything was still in the drawers like you had left it. You remembered specifically one item that you desperately sought. Shoving a disgustingly old chapstick aside, along with a hair scrunchie or two, you found the little book of matches you reserved for when you liked to light candles. Taking it with you and sitting on the edge of the bed, you dejectedly lit your cigarette.

Inhaling the nicotine deeply, you collapsed backwards onto the feather down comforter. Letting the interaction with your Father sink in. Shock now moderately subsided, you focused on his words, on what he had said about Mallory. He didn’t think it was an accident either, and he had vaguely suggested that something bad had happened with work too. Obviously whatever had transpired was clearly bad enough to warrant a bodyguard for your protection. He told you that he was working on it, but that didn’t stifle any pain from the loss of your sister. You were hungry for justice and revenge, and you weren’t about to sit around and not contribute.

So, after Mallory was buried, and you were assured you could have a moment alone with your Dad, you were going to convince him to let you help. He owed you that much.

[vicunaburger]

Admittedly, I’m Hard to See

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical Chapters: 7/? Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae) The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell Word Count: 1,490 Warnings: M for Language, a little more Violence in this chapter

Notes: DemonPower!Beej needs more attention, I think. Expect him to pop up more often.

Chapter 7: In Which Civility is Attempted

It had been days, and no sign of the resident spectre.

There was still tension between Lydia and Holidae over the whole debacle; spurring random bouts of shouting at one another over the smallest of issues. In all honesty, their anger at each other was beginning to wane, but the lack of Beetlejuice kept Lydia on edge. It was unusual of him to disappear for so long, and there was no sign of him even just… being in the house unseen.

The tension had boiled over at the week-since-the-incident mark, and Lydia decided she needed to get out of the house for a while. She took the car into town, claiming the need for more camera supplies, and left Holidae alone to stew in her own guilt for the afternoon.

Anxiety wormed it’s way into Holidae’s brain; a constant buzzing sensation running through her veins as she paced around the house, looking for any kind of distraction, however inane it might have been. At a loss, she wandered outside onto the garish patio, flopping into one of the lawn chairs set out beside a small table. Thankfully, it was overcast and a cool autumn breeze scattered fallen leaves around the deck. Perfect napping weather, if nothing else.

Holidae had just started to nod off when the chair suddenly dipped down, creaking as it tried to bear the extra weight. Blinking her eyes open, she was nose to nose with the missing ghost, his expression… unreadable from such a close distance. The only clue she had was the purple hue that covered his normally green locks.

“That’s my chair, breather.” Beetlejuice leaned closer, pressing his chest against hers.

Holidae was pinned down in the lawn chair, surprised when it didn’t break under the weight of two full-grown adults. Moving her legs subtly, she realized only half of his weight was balancing on top of her, the rest of him hovering just a few inches above her bottom half. She couldn’t tell if it was more or less intimidating to see him just floating above her.

She poked at his stomach, “Thank you for reminding me I’m an imposition to everyone in this house, but I can’t get up.”

Without a word, he took hold of her by the shoulders, lifting her out of the chair as though she weighed nothing. He carried her up to the top of the full-sized wall facade, keeping her suspended high above the ground. Holidae clutched at his arms for dear life, her nails digging into his sleeves.

“No no no… wait, don’t… don’t….” Holidae’s voice cracked.

“This is the right height to break someone’s neck, right? Or at he very least, break something. I could always just snap it and then drop you just to make sure.” Beetlejuice’s claws ripped into her shirt as he loosened his grip. “Ooooh babydoll it has been a long time since I ended a life. Kinda miss it, you know? Lyds doesn’t really want me to hurt anyone, but since she’s not entirely thrilled about you lately, she won’t mind.”

Holidae was grasping at him, trying to reach around his neck to support herself, “Beetlejuice, please don’t drop me. Just… can’t we just talk? Lydia… she told me everything!”

The ghost casually vanished out of her grip, reappearing on the edge of the wall connected to the decking. Holidae felt herself being suspended in mid-air, invisible hands supporting her as she was caught mid-fall. A wave of nausea made her stomach lurch as she glanced down at the ground below, a soft haze clouding the edges of her vision. One of the transparent limbs was wrapped around her throat, forcing her chin upward to look at him instead of her impending death.

“Everything?” He asked, crossing one leg over the other, “That’s a little vague, isn’t it? Better start clarifying or… I dunno, maybe I’ll just forget to keep you up. Sometimes my attention span isn’t the greatest.”

For emphasis, he snapped his fingers, and Holidae dropped a few inches before being lifted back up. Panting hard, she fought the urge to just faint right then and there, her blood pounding in her ears loud enough to muffle his voice.

It was like the carnival ride from hell.

“She… she told me about the Maitlands.” Holidae was sweating now, the cold air making her shiver. “About how she could see you, a-about her mother, the N-N-Neitherworld… and the marriage that was subsequently followed by your murder.”

Another snap of his fingers and Holidae was perched on the wall next to him. She clutched his arm for fear of falling, pulling it tight against her chest as though she could will him to stay put. The two of them sitting there would have almost painted a rather… romantic picture, if not for the fact he had already made a few attempts on her life in the last five minutes.

Beetlejuice was surprisingly quiet for a long time, absently scratching a spot in the middle of his chest, “...she didn’t have to tell you that.”

“Lyddy just started talking, and I listened.” Holidae could feel her heart rate returning to normal, looking up at him to notice he was still sporting his violet hue. “Speaking of which: please go talk to her when she gets back. She’s miserable and I can’t fix it, but I know you can. Just… anything. Talk about the weather. Or some cool bug you found. Anything.”

“I don’t want to talk to her. She can come talk to me.” His brow was furrowed in frustration, but his hand managed to find its way onto her thigh despite his mood. “Besides, I’m sure you two will patch things up and start gossiping about me during sleepovers or some shit.”

Holidae gave his shin a swift kick, “Asshole. No wonder you two are bestest best friends; you’re both too stubborn for any sane person to tolerate. Suck it up and go make her happy.”

With an annoyed grunt, Beetlejuice dragged the girl up onto his lap, dipping her upper half low as though they were dancing, “Stupid move, kicking someone who is literally holding your life in his hands. Got a death wish or something? Listen, I already went through this suicidal breather routine with Lyds, I really don’t have the capacity to care about anyone else’s problems.”

“Then stop talking about it and just fucking drop me, I’m tired.” She knew it was a risky move, but it he wanted her pulverized on the ground, he wouldn’t have let her keep talking.

At least, she hoped that was the case.

The ghost stared at her for a long time, as if he were trying to see something on her person that would be otherwise hidden from view. She started to blush; but she wasn’t sure if it was from the intense scrutiny, or the blood starting to rush to her head from the angle she was being held. One thing she did note was that his violet coloring was fading away into his normal neon green.

“Alright, alright… dumb humans and your sense of morality.” Beej rolled his eyes, transporting them back to the deck. “Ugh, it gets so old.”

Well, in actuality he was standing on solid ground, but Holidae was being held up in his grasp; just enough to have her feet dangling helplessly in the air. Even though he wasn’t that much taller than she was, it was still enough of a difference to thoroughly annoy the poor woman. To add insult to injury, he started to swing her back and forth like a pendulum, causing her to wrap arms around his neck in reflex.

Her stomach did a little flip; being in such close proximity was making her feel off. It wasn’t the musty smell that hovered around him, as she thought as first. No, that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. And neither was his appearance in general, the longer she stared at him. Even with mold growing in various spots. He was rather attact-

Bad thought train, she mentally scolded herself. Must exit.

“Can you please let me down now? I would really appreciate being able to experience gravity.” Holidae pouted, feeling her cheeks flush hot even though he was noticeably cold to the touch.

He shook his head, sticking out his striped, snake-like tongue, “Pfft, who needs gravity? You’re being held in the arms of the Neitherworld’s number one bachelor. Feel honored, Holly-Berry, do you know how many undead ladies and lads would love to fill those shoes of yours? So many.”

Holidae was about to make a retort, when a suspiciously loud clicking caught both of their attentions at the same time. Lydia was standing in the doorway to the house, camera in one hand as she waved around the newly printed polaroid in the other. Beetlejuice and Holidae glanced at each other, and then back at Lydia as she inspected the photo.

“Damn. That guy at the store lied to me.” Lydia frowned, lining up the picture next to her two still-frozen companions. “Can’t see ghosts with this film.”

Writing Tags: @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @ashemspirit

[creamypxffs]

Killing Stalker 🩸🔪• Yoonseok ✨

One day, Yoongi was walking to his school because another weekday at school until Saturday. He really don’t like school but one part he likes to go by is his crush. Jung Hoseok. He always have such an amazing face that make his whole everything melt.

Just like any other day Hoseok was standing outside watching all the kids that past by his house to go to the high school. He always looked at the kids passing by him. Just to make sure none of them did anything there. Yoongi was in there. Yoongi felt someone was looking at him.

So he turned his head to the way someone was looking at him, it was hoseok. He didn’t know why he was staring at him, like he going to eat him up right there. So he waved at him to see if it was okay, Hoseok wave back at him smiling. Yoongi thought his smile was everything to him. He always make him happy inside. Than he heard his name called so he turned to the direction of the sound and saw his friend trying to catch up to him on the way, it was Eunwoo. His best friend since middle school.

Eunwoo felt a strange strong gaze on him that was making him flinch, cold. He looked at the older guy. He was staring straight at him, nobody else. Hoseok eyes looked like it turned dark when he got there. He didn’t know why he started to stare at him like that, actually he been doing that everytime when he gets by Yoongi or called out his name. He was scared.

They didn’t know much about hoseok just that he live alone, nobody saw his family come to his house at all. Not even on holidays. Maybe he was in a bad relationship with all of them, that was the only answer. Yoongi and Eunwoo finally hit the doors of the highschool, it wasn’t a fancy highschool just an average, old looking one. With bugs and mold on the walls, even in the bathrooms. “Hey yoonie, the guy who always wave at you. He was looking at me again.” said a creep out eunwoo. “I think you are paranoid, he always smile at me with the nicest smile.” he said while giggling. Yoongi don’t know why he have a crush on him, maybe because they always wave and smile at each other. He just did. His heart always jump, just hearing his name.

School was finally over, they can finally go to the arcade now. Eunwoo ran fast as he can to reach yoongi to the entrance before he be to late. “Boo.” Yoongi jumped and almost punch him. “I almost fucking punch you, dumbass.” said being angry at his friend. Eunwoo laughed. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” He said between his laughter. “You’re face would say otherwise.” Yoongi laughed a bit.

They walked out together, Yoongi looked over where Hoseok live at to see if he was there. Sadly he wasn’t. He usually go out around this time when school always end. The arcade was really close to Yoongi house, he can go there anytime he wants. Plus his friends work there. Jeon Jungkook, he loves his video games. “Another day, huh?.” he said looking between his friends. “Gotta brighten his day with some games.” Eunwoo said while hitting Yoongi on his back but not real hard to make him flinch. They grabbed their tickets and started to play a shooting game that is actually a real popular game that everyone is playing. While they was playing that, the door on the arcade ring. “Welcome new face, how can I help you?.” said with his bunny smile that can make everyone just be happy. “Hey there, I’m hanging out with her and him tonight.” Yoongi frozed by the person voice. He turned and saw it was Hoseok, Hoseok never really ever come here.

The whole time when Yoongi coming he never saw him. Was he following him? or was it just normal. Hoseok turned to Yoongi and smirk at him. His heart jumped. They been there the whole hour, hoseok was still there with the girl and the guy. He was started to touch both of them under the table. Yoongi saw. He was jealous, but make things more interesting was that hoseok was looking at him while he was doing those things to them. He wished he did the same thing to him, touching him making him feel good, kissing him on his neck, leaving hickies all over him. That what he wanted. The thing happened to the next, but finally the woman whispered in his ear he started to smile and got up from the table. The guy followed them from behind.

And they left. Yoongi didn’t know why he felt jealous but he just did, he wanted the those things too. He wanted everything. Finally Eunwoo and Yoongi finally stopped playing games, they started to leave until Jungkook stopped them “That guy with those two people, um he give this to me to give to you.” Yoongi walked up to him and grabbed the paper. It was just an ordinary paper.

But the color on it, was red, bright red. Like fresh blood. With a big red heart on it. Yoongi rushed out the door and saying bye to the both of them. He wanted to look at what his crush said on the paper. He really wanted to know. The time he got home, he rushed upstairs to his bedroom. Not even talking to his abusive father. The father yelled. But he didn’t care. He opened up his door, and locked it so his father wouldn’t come in. He opened up the paper and read the words that he put, “Come over.” with the big red heart all over it. Yoongi couldn’t believe it his crush likes him back, he was really happy that he started to jumped on his bed. “KEEP IT DOWN, YOU LITTLE SHIT.” his father yelled. But he didn’t even fucking care. He finally going to his house.

The next day, it’s was finally Saturday. He was going to visit Hoseok. Yoongi started to take a shower, and got some clothes on and went out. His father was knock out from all the drinking he did last night. Like always. He walked to his house, and knocked. Nobody answered. Yoongi started to look through the windows, but people was looking at him like he was a creep. A car started to honk and it startled him, a police car. “Kiddo what you doing- Ohh Hey there Yoongi.” The cop said sounded happy that he recognized his hair color. “Hey Namjoon, I didn’t know you do this side too.” he turned back to his other friends voice. “Yeah I’m just visiting my friends house.” he said looking back at the locked door.

T W: Mention Blood And Gore!!

“It’s okay, but I didn’t know you was friends with Jung Hoseok.” turning his head to look at the side of the car. “Yeah we just started to hanging out.” He said sounded a bit nervous. “Ahhh got you, well i need to go. Duty calls.” Namjoon said laughing. And he head off. Yoongi looked under the welcome mat and found the key, he opens up the door and went outside. Chills was coming from both of the sides of the house, maybe he likes the cold. Yoongi steppes more in and closed the door. He started to go in the kitchen, he wasn’t there. Yoongi went to the room on his left, didn’t saw nothing out of the ordinary. He started to walked more father to the right, he actually did saw something. It looked like....blood.

He went more closer to it, it looks fresh, new looking. Even the smell of the blood smell fresh. Than he saw two bodies that had been chopped up, the arms, the legs, even their foot was chopped up in little pieces. He looked up to see who were they was, it was the people who he was with. It was so much blood everywhere. He tripped on the blood. Yoongi tried to scream, nothing come out of his mouth. He couldn’t speak, or move. He was stuck. “Such a shame, that you saw all of this. I actually really liked you.” Yoongi looked behind him to see who it was but before that, a bat hit him in his head, knocking him out.

All he could see was blackness clouding his eyes.

[rootfauna]

Loss of the chance of life

A while ago I found out my grandmother was one of the many native american women who were forcibly sterilized. I wrote this article.

In 1972 Janet Clifton, an Osage woman, walked into the IHS in Clairemore, Oklahoma. For years she had been having severe pelvic cramps and they had become too much to bear. She was put in a gown and lead to a room in which sat the dreaded stirruped chair many women have despised since it’s invention. The anxiety is understandable even in modern times when women’s healthcare is arguably the most advanced it’s ever been. It’s frightening, then, to imagine approaching that chair in the 60’s and 70’s, when modern women’s healthcare was in it’s infancy, and for a Native American woman, it could be absolutely terrifying.

When Janet signed in to the clinic, she’d been asked the usual questions, one of which was ‘are you married’, which she was, and was asked if she had any children, which she did. Three to be exact. She was only twenty-five and all her children were born just under three years, so it is no surprise that when she was asked if she was religious she replied that she was Catholic. Christianity and native Americans have a strange relationship. The religion was used to justify atrocities done to us too numerous not only for this paper, but for anyone to ever list. Arguably it’s greatest crime was to mold itself into a cardboard beacon, offering native Americans sanctuary from it’s own ugliness. For centuries Native American men made the decision to convert for the rest of the family. The rules of life changed for them, but it’s unclear if they realized the changes it meant for their wives. Their roles in many nations were reduced, as was their agency over their bodies. Contraceptives in their earliest days were known throughout the world, including the Americas, yet now they were forbidden. As ridiculous and ineffective as they could be, they at least offered the illusion of body autonomy, mostly for women.

When Janet went to the IHS the Women’s Health Movement (WHM) had only recently begun, along with second wave feminism. It spoke loftily and justly about abortion rights and about changing the traditional maternity ward practices into more family oriented ones, with the fathers allowed in the delivery room. There was a resurgence of midwifery. However, these improvements did not scratch the blood soaked surface of Native American health care. As Janet lay in the chair, three white doctors entered the room. The Indian Clinic did not have any native doctors, so doctors were driven in from nearby Tulsa Oklahoma, thus continuing the tradition of white doctors working with an exclusively non-white clientele. “I felt like I was being experimented on,” she would later say. She would be in good company. A Google search of “experiments on native women” will instantly bring up several articles about the forced sterilization of Native American women, and many give examples of experimental procedures that were performed in front of many doctors under the guise of research. Janet, who only wanted treatment for what we now know as polycystic ovary syndrome, never knew she would join their ranks. “One of the doctors told me that they were going to burn the cysts off. The procedure was never really explained to me and it was probably a combination of me being a woman and being Native American. They thought I was too dumb to understand anyway.” Had she known more on the subject she might have thought he was referring to a ovarian wedge resection, a common treatment at the time. It involves opening the patient up in an operating theater and exposing the ovaries. The cysts are then carefully removed with a cauterization tool not only keep the cyst from bursting, but to ensure the ovary heals properly. Instead of doing this, Janet and her doctors remained in the exam room where he gave her a local anesthetic, inserted a cauterizing into her vaginally, and performed what was most likely a tubal litigation. This is the most common form of female sterilization and only severs the fallopian tubes. My grandmother’s painful ovaries would remain untouched and untreated.  

“I remember smelling something burning,” recalled Janet, “I looked down and saw smoke.”She was sent home directly after the procedure, unaware of what had actually happened to her and uninformed of the possible side effects. There was pain, of course, and in a candid moment she also confessed that she was never able to feel sexual pleasure with her husband again. Worst of all, because there had been no attempt to treat the cysts, and the pain that started the entire ordeal returned within weeks.

Pain seems to be woven into the fabric of every Native American woman’s life and this has not gone unnoticed artists, native and non-native alike. When native women are not posing nude on a biker’s bicep, we are huddled into blankets, riding our horses, our backs bent and heads hung low. Sometimes we stand on hills, gazing at nothing with blank faces and sometimes we kneel by our tipis and look at the ground. Though the past few decades have brought forward more animated depictions of Native American women, my grandmother’s house was filled with the old fashioned kind. As a child, I thought they were pretty, if boring. I never perceived any greater meaning than a woman simply looking down. Maybe she was watching a bug. As a child I was also blissfully unaware of the majority of the atrocities faced by our people and what I did know, I largely new in name only. It wasn’t until I grew older that I’d look at these paintings and think ‘huh, she actually looks kinda sad’. Now I look at these paintings and think ‘she looks utterly defeated’. Knowing what really happened to us makes me notice details I never had before, like how so many of them have textbook thousand yard stares while portraits of chiefs and warriors in the same stye still seem to have fire in their eyes. The men are also more likely to be depicted upright, whether standing or on horseback, still tall in some way or another. The woman have deflated. We slump over our horse’s necks, we kneel, we sit. It seems as though these women have accepted that pain is just something they must endure silently and with dignity, whatever the source. My grandmother is not like these women, so when the pain that had sent her to the doctor in the first place returned, so did she.

The doctors made little effort with pretense this time - she would have a hysterectomy and that was that. At this point there was no reason to try and treat her as Janet could no longer have children, and in the end her hysterectomy would succeed in ridding her of her pain. Why then does it seem to hold so much more significance? European invaders managed to erase many aspects of various indigenous cultures, but some roots run too deep to be completely torn out and in so many of our cultures it was the female ability bring forth life that created the world. The association with women and new life was so strong that even in some nations it was observed that women sewed the seeds for the new crops and tended to them, but it was the men who reaped them. Their reasoning was that women brought life, and men took it. Some Lakota Sioux would not acknowledge a girl’s transition to womanhood until she has had a child. This doesn’t mean that a woman’s only value was her ability to have children and in many nations women held high political power, were religious leaders, and even warriors. Still, it is virtually impossible to completely separate a woman’s potential reproductive capabilities and how she was viewed in societies that place more value on the concept of new life, birth, or rebirth. So many Native American nations fell into this category, and on some level or another, a woman’s womb was sacred. In 1972, at age 25, my grandmother’s was ripped from her body.

From an outsiders perspective, it seems as though these sterilized women have become those broken women from the paintings. In doing research for this paper, I found very little. The ambiguity is unsettling. Is the near total absence of initial medical documentation a result of apathy towards Native American health, or an intentional coverup? Did the women affected not speak out about this at the time because of the taboo around reproductive systems? Was it shame, or a feeling that no one would listen anyway? I have to wonder, too, how many woman are like my grandmother who only now realizes what was done to her. Whitehorse also did not realize what happened to her until later. “I was trying to have more babies, but was having trouble getting pregnant, so I went to the IHS clinic. That’s when they told me about what they did to me,” She said. She had been sterilized during a previous surgery.“I was in so much pain when I went in for the appendectomy; they gave me a bunch of papers to sign. They never explained anything to me; I had no idea I was giving them permission to sterilize me.” she said. It wasn’t only abdominal pain that allowed doctors to trick women into sterilization. One of the more famous cases of sterilization involved two girls, both under fifteen years old, who were sterilized during surgery to remove their tonsils. It’s been estimated that between 1960 and 1970, for every seven native babies born, one woman was sterilized, culminating in roughly 25% of the potentially fertile female population. Even this was not enough of an attack on the Native American woman. Native American boarding schools, run by the BIA (Bureau of Indian Affairs) where still common in that era. A 1971 census stated that approximately 35,000 Native American children lived in boarding schools rather than at home. In these schools, children were stripped of their language, their culture, their religion, their names, and often, their sanity. Abuse was rampant and the chances of escape were bleak. While non-native children were begging for bell bottoms and watching t.v, two native boys fled, only to freeze to death in their attempt to return home. Suicide rates amongst teenage boarders could reach as high as one hundred times the national average. The rest of the nation, if it noticed, soon turned away and continued to focus on disco. Native mothers could do little to stop the abuse of their children, but a growing number were being offered a choice. If they agreed to be sterilized, their existing children might be allowed to stay with them. It can’t be said if it was in defeat or defiance that a mother made her choice, whichever it was. It would a lie to say that no woman was defeated, and sat slumped over a bottle of whiskey rather than a horse.

However, when my grandmother was wheeled into the recovery bay, she discovered that she was not the only woman who refused stoop down and be silent, though she did not yet know what bond she shared with these women. They were a small group, all in various stages of recovery. They smiled and chatted if and when they could, and because the nurses were about as helpful as a match under water, they tended to each other. The women adjusted each others hospital beds by hand, fetched each other glasses of water and just as importantly, they kept each other in good spirits. Decades later, Janet will still smile and laugh when she remembers a woman that was truly fed up with the barely edible hospital food. “You guys want some pizza?” The woman had asked, and then she got up and climbed out the window. A while later she returned the same way, pizza in hand. They might have been neglected and in pain, but in that moment they were normal women diving into a pizza and giddy with their own mischief. It seems like such a small gesture, valuable in that it’s a light hearted tidbit from an otherwise tragic story, but it is so much more than that. Expand the perspective and you’ll find it’s really the story of how a Native American woman was had her reproductive organs seared into oblivion against her will by white doctors, was neglected by nurses in a recovery room filled with strangers, and this woman still had the strength and spark to climb out a window and return with pizza to share with her sisters. Our solidarity is our fortitude. Native women have an incredible ability to come together and to accomplish incredible things. One of they key elements that allows us to do this is our ability to communicate with each other, and despite what modern white hippies may think, we can’t do that with telepathy and talking animals. I would not have been able to tell my grandmother’s story without calling her and having several lengthy phone calls. This chapter of our history is in danger of being forgotten. It’s imperative we learn as much as we can, but that is not enough. It’s through communication that bond over our people’s losses and triumphs and encourage others to learn along with us. If I am to end this essay with one request, it is that when you read this chapter of our history, please read it out loud.

—- This essay is dedicate to Janet Stork, I cannot give enough thanks to my grandmother for letting me interview her. Rather than mourn her loss, she seemed happy throughout every conversation, as if she was glad that someone wanted to hear what she had to say. This is such a sensitive topic, one that would make many young students here cringe and shy away from, but my grandmother made every conversation a comfortable one. No question was off limits, there was no withholding of details. I feel so lucky to have a grandmother like her, and I’m amazed that it’s through her strength I exist today.

[erikismybitch]

Waiting In Vain: Chapter 11

First Base.

Erik was coming over tonight . It was a spontaneous matter. He was coming to help her install her security doorbell. He told her he wanted to give her a gift , turns out it was just that. “You live alone , you need to know who’s at your door... people prey on women” he told her . She let him know that he probably needed to Install it for her . That was like music to his ears , he just wanted her to invite him over . Erik insisted that she let him do it . “You ain’t gotta pay nobody , I got you”

It was the end of the afternoon. Erik told her he would swing by late night , he was busy. It would be the first time she seen him since that eventful night at the strip club. She was dwelling on how it might be when he came , so instead of letting her anxiety get the best of her , she tried to occupy her time . She was on her living room floor . Watching youtube trying to find out how to add fake braiding hair to her natural style . Marley was a do it yourself type of girl , and never backed down from a challenge. Her living room was full of free strands of kaneklon . Her wild blow dried hair was pinned with every metal clip she could find. She took a deep breath and blew the hair out of her face , this was harder than she thought . This was only braid one .

“Oh my fucking god” frustration overtook her as she un-did the the braid for the third time . Marley started from the beginning , just as the chipper girl on YouTube showed her . Then there was a knock on the door right in the middle of the braid. Marley thought it was a part of the video, until she heard it again. Then it sounded like her door .

“Who is it!” she made her voice aggressive, a tactic she followed ever since she was a child . It always made her feel safe when she was home alone . Like the voice would scare the unwanted away. Silly, she knew that . Nobody responded . She figured it was another one of her elderly neighbors welcoming her . They had been bringing food and plants all week. One woman told Marley she reminded her of her grandchild, and spend the afternoon showing her pictures of her. They looked nothing alike , but Marley wouldn’t dare tell her that .

The knocks continued. She crept to the peep hole and looked out . Erik, who wasn’t supposed to be there until later was standing at her door. “Erik, I thought you were coming later” Marley observed him through the peep hole . He stood back with his feet facing out and apart . His hands held at his front holding the doorbell in a package.

“I’m here now, so open the door” he looked right at the peep hole , as if he could see her . Marley quickly moved to the side and tried her best to lay her big hair down. She really didn’t want him to see her like that . “Marley, what the fuck” Erik was growing impatient.

She opened the door slowly, but stood behind it . Erik walked in, a bit puzzled because he didn’t see her . She shut the door and prepared herself for his lude comments about her hair. He stared at it with big eyes, then began to laugh .

“Don’t laugh at me , I’m in the middle of doing my hair” she ran her hands through it and held it in a ponytail.

“What are you doing to it?” Erik was being sarcastic , he made sure to bug his eyes out for emphasis .

“I’m trying to braid my hair” Marley walked back to her living room and sat down in front of her laptop . Without saying anything , she pointed to the small tool box on her kitchen counter . Along with her power drill that she never really used . “Thank you for doing this”

Erik nodded and grabbed everything he needed to install the security doorbell. Marley continued to do her hair as Erik worked.

He kept the front door open , his glare reverting back and forth from Marley and the doorbell . She was so focused on what she was doing. It was pretty obvious to Erik that this was something she wasn’t good at . She kept cursing, huffing and starting over . He cut on the drill and it made Marley jump, that made him laugh again. But it only frustrated her further more , she tossed her fake hair across the floor .

Erik finished the doorbell with lightning speed, then came inside . Since she had no furniture yet, he sat on her kitchen counter . Marley decided to give up. Her arms were getting tired and her fingers were slightly sore. She took a deep breath and rested her arms behind her . Marleys soft face looked at Erik. He was already staring at her .

“All you need to do is connect your phone to the camera ”

“I feel safer already” she joked.

Erik hopped off the counter . He circled the living room and looked around. “Give me a tour” Erik held his hand out for her to grab, when she did he pulled her up with ease . She pretended not to be phased at how strong he was. Or how cute he was , or how good he smelled or how his dimples made her heartbeat speed up.

“A tour?” Marley asked , seemingly distracted by him. She even forgot that her hair was still a mess.

“Of the apartment”

Marley showed him every room except for hers, that was last . She made sure to give him the excuse that she’s working on getting more stuff . Marley was embarrassed at the fact that her place was so empty . Although Erik didn’t feel she had anything to prove . They stopped at her bedroom door . Marley gave this exaggerated speech about her exuberant room. She told him she didn’t let many people inside of her room. So it was a privilege for him to witness it.

It was light and airy. The wind from the open windows made her sheer curtains flow freely . On her floor was a huge lilac shag rug that made Erik want to take off his shoes and rub his feet on it . It was neat and organized, down the the matching vases full of flowers that sat on her dresser . Right below her flat screen . Erik fought the urge to ask her who molded her TV for her . But that wasn’t his place yet . Ironically, just like her , Eriks found his favorite part was her bed. Big fluffy and white . He thought she had to have at least twenty pillows on it . She plopped herself on it. Erik couldnt help but watch her chest bounce lightly .

“You hungry?” Marley questioned casually but her words lit him up.

“For you, always”

“You real corny”

“You like it though”

Erik was cocky , it had always got him far. He was mysterious to many , those who didn’t know him could literally see the guard he held up . But to know him, was to love him. Erik had a kind heart that he only revealed to a few. Most knew his other side . Erik could be cold , his emotions had the ability to cut off like a switch .

There was a light in Marley the first time he saw her . She smiled and said “Hi” to him. For the first time in his adult life, Erik found himself unsure of what to say. He was always quick and ready for any thing . That night he was stuck, so he decided to move onto something easy and familiar. Tiana.

Back in those past times, Erik admired how Marley was always working and busy . Coming in late all crabbed and tired . While he was fucking Tiana, he wanted to know everything about her day. That’s why he would catch her in the middle of the night in the kitchen. But that unfamiliar emotion would take over him and he always said something to offend her . As if he was punishing her for making him feel a way . It didn’t stop there . Erik enjoyed eating her good left overs when she didn’t come home at nights . He always ate everything she cooked, subconsciously pretending as if she made it for him. One night after he’d Put Tiana to sleep with the power of his penis, he went into her room . It was an oasis and seemed to be displaced in this apartment. It smelled so good, she always smelled so good. Marley had a big bed that was made perfectly. Her closet was filled with shoes like his . On her nightstand laid her iPod, he didn’t even know people still used those . It was connected to a mini speaker . Erik pressed play . Music began to play softly, Stevie Wonder Golden lady . He went home that same night , because he never spent the night . Erik shamelessly played Stevie wonder with thoughts of her . He tried to invade her privacy again the next night . Tiana caught him in her room . He played it off as if he was searching for condoms . Erik laughed about that often . It was amazing to him that she lived in a different apartment , and in such a short time she had managed to make it smell exactly the same.

“We can’t go eat with your hair like th-”

“I’m gonna fix it” She cut him off and went into the bathroom. While she used a spray bottle and some product to form a slick low bun. Erik told her he’d be waiting for her outside in his car. Marley found a hoodie that semi-matched her joggers . She slid on some sneakers and went outside.

Marley didn’t see him at first until he honked . “Of course that’s your car” she spoke to herself . A fancy sports something she didn’t know the name of . It was loud and white . He reached over and opened her door from the passenger side, which was a big step up from him honking . Erik took off down the road , driving past the speed limit . Marley didn’t fret because she drove fast too . He got on the freeway , Erik didn’t say much . Just mentioned that he wanted Mexican food, and he could only eat from one spot . Marley thought it was a little dramatic , it was a bit far from her house . Then again, looking at it as a person who loved good , maybe it was that good .

Erik exited at a part of the city that Marley didn’t frequent . He was taking her to the hood. Not that she felt too good to be here, she just didn’t have a reason to . Marley didn’t have a stuck-up bone in her body . If anything , places like this humbled her . Same with Erik . He wanted to see if she’d be comfortable in the setting , humility was important to him.

He parked in front of a hole in the wall Mexican restaurant. There was an unnatural amount of litter on the sidewalk and a middle aged homeless man who was asking for change . Erik ignored him , while Marley promised to take care of him on her way back out if he was still around.

For the place to be so run down. There were quite a few people eating inside . There were small booths with pepper sauce and napkins on the tables . Erik told Marley to sit down while he ordered for the both of them . Marley liked how he had taken charge, but warned him not to get her anything too spicy . She was easy like that . Erik ordered and stood at the pick up window for a long while . He scrolled through his phone casually, sometimes glancing at his surroundings and checking Marley out . They called his order number and he brought it back to the table . A platter of tacos with different meat, and sides of rice and beans. Two Mexican Cokes and pickled carrots. Marley was impressed , and wasted no time telling him so . He flaunted because he knew she’d like it .

They began eating , and conversing about everything under the sun . She spoke with food still slightly in her mouth and when she drank her soda she burped . Giving Erik a small look at the real her , without even knowing it. Erik thought she was so pretty , without even trying . It was the small things . Especially her loud laugh. She was laughing at something he said about a movie that they both had recently seen. Some super hero flick that they agreed wasn’t that good .

“Would you rather be a hero or a villain in a movie?” Marley asked him . She would bet her money that Erik wanted to be a villain . Erik played the villain in her life for a little while.

“You go first” he licked the salsa off his fingers and awaited her answer . Marley shrugged her shoulders slowly , she had asked that question without coming up with an answer of her own .

“I’m always somewhere in the middle. I’d probably be the hero’s love interest who died and he avenged my death” Marley took a sip of coke and began eating another taco , even though she was getting full .

“Damn girl”

“You’d be a villain huh?” Marley cheesed because she knew she was right .

“Definitely a villain, who wins”

Marley clasped her hands together and sprung her grand idea into action. “You would be the villain who killed me and the hero had to kill you” she stared off into space imagining the visual.

“Or I was in love with you and killed the hero for not protecting you from death”

Her eyes cut straight back to him , she was stunned. Especially with those words “love” and “you” formed together in a sentence .

“Did we just write a blockbuster smash ?” .

“We did, Marley”

The little smile she let out after he said her name left him curious . So he said her name again making her smile ever harder . Her version of blushing ,she tried to hide it with the bite of a taco . He found it adorable that he could make her nervous . But she could also be herself too. Erik was learning that Marley had these soft spots . When he got close to her , looked in her eyes too long , or said something provocative. And now , it was the way he said her name .

“What exactly do you think about me?”

Erik was also learning that he didn’t have her all figured out the way he thought . He didn’t know exactly what she meant with that question.

“What kind of question is that ?” Erik diverted with another question because he was unable to answer it .

“It’s a valid one” Marley’s tone was a little more straightforward now.

“Well...” he looked heavenward then back down before he spoke again . “That’s not a question I’m ready to answer right now”

“Judging on how we ended up in this situation, I need to know that I’m not making a mistake by entertaining you”

“So I’m just entertainment ?”

They both took a step back , not a literal one but just a moment. Marley thought she could have phrased that better . Considering that dealing with feelings head on may not be his strong suit. Erik didn’t want to make her upset, based on how he treated her in the past he understood the conflict. She opened up her mouth to speak, but Erik thought his response was more important. He interrupted her.

“Im here with you cause’...I want to be” it was plain and simple just like that .

Markey didn’t know if it was the itis that had kicked in and relaxed her . But that was actually enough validation for her . Right now. It was enough to get them started on whatever journey they were taking.

They finished their food , and since Erik paid , Marley cleared the table before they left . They both walked the garbage filled pathway to his car . The homeless man from before had gone . In his place an intolerably drunk man was approaching Marley’s side . Erik casually gripped her waist and moved her out the way , closer to him. The drunk man mouthed a few unrecognizable words but they just ignored him. And when he got too close to Marley again, Erik wasted no time threatening him . She felt protected in that moment. It was ironic though . In a sense Erik was the one who put her in the face of harm, but he wouldn’t let anything harm her.

He opened her car door from the outside this time . She got inside , and he soon followed . Strategically, Erik turned the volume up on his car audio. To Marley’s liking, Stevie wonder was playing . She stared out the window and hummed the melody to Visions ... she found it funny. A song she listened to when things weren’t going well . Visions, a song that asked the question, will things be better as if I imagined them. Maybe it was a sign that things were looking up for her .

He padded her thigh and let his hand remain there , she snapped out of Wonderland and turned to him. “You good?” He noticed how she had zoned out. She nodded.

“I just really love this song, that’s all”

Marley glanced at his hand, and fought the urge to slide her fingers in between his . Holding hands was one of the ultimate signs of affection to her . But if he pulled back , she couldn’t handle that rejection. So she did nothing , just allowed him to rest his hand there . Affection wasn’t the only thing she wanted to feel , Eriks hand was at the top of her thigh signaling her blood to rush to the pleasure points of her body . She cleared her throat and released tension .

“You liked the food huh” He basically told her .

“Hella good” Marley joked about how that might be her new Taco spot . Erik said it was cool, as long as he was with her every time . That was a deal she happily made . He soon pulled up to her apartment complex and found a spot right in front of the fountain . The water was all they could hear on account of the cars silence. Marley wanted him to come inside badly . She wasn’t sure if sex was the right thing to do so soon, but her body said otherwise. He wasn’t moving .

“Alright then” he hit her thigh softly , in a “be on your way” type of manner . Then placed it back on the wheel .

“Bye, thanks” The look disappointment she could not cover. He could tell too. Right as she opened the door to exit, Erik grabbed her back inside by her left arm.

“It’s not that I don’t want to come in” he gave her a once-over . “Trust me ,I do... I do for real I do” he repeated himself .

“It’s okay” that look of dissipointment was still there.

“I put some stuff off to see you early, it can’t wait” Erik didn’t want Marley to feel like he was pushing her away.

“ I said it’s okay” she sounded as if she was trying to convince herself as well as him.

“You had that look on your face , I just had to let you know” her face crept into a smile . All Erik did was make her smile this day . A big change from how they used to be. Erik intertwined his fingers with hers and kissed her palm . “Bye...be good, answer when I call”

“I promise” she took her hand back . He melted at the innocence in her voice. Marley shut his door and let him go. She walked to her complex entrance , Erik waited until she shut the lobby door to pull off .

“Promise , who says promise !” She palmed her face in embarrassment. A few tenants were in the lobby staring at her oddly for talking to herself . But she didn’t care , all she cared about was Erik .

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Sixty-Seven: Explore ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, pregnancy, death ] [ Verse: River Runs Deep ] [ AO3 Link ]

It was a strange old house. Nothing like the one they left behind in the city. That one had been sleek, modern...if not small, with hardly any yard. But their new home - back in the country, in the foothills of a small mountain - was...well, huge. Old. And old fashioned, too. Complete with engawa, fusuma, tatami floors...and old house smell. Not mold, of course. Just...aged wood and paper. And the yard...the yard was huge! With few houses in the countryside, there wasn’t even a fence - just openness out into fields and the nearby woods.

And at first, Hinata didn’t understand the reason they left the city for the country. Hiashi had told her it was because her mother - pregnant with her second child - needed some fresh air, and peace and quiet. Which, young Hinata supposed, made sense. Having a baby was a pretty big deal! Everyone was excited for it: her mother, her father, and of course herself. Finally she would have a little sibling to play with!

...if only she knew what she would lose in the process.

Her mother, a soft and kind soul, took to their new home well. Enjoying the sun and breezes, she would often sit on the front deck, dozing in the morning light. Hinata would always join her, leaned against her side.

“Soon, Hinata...a new life will bloom. Time will move forward. We will grow...and we will wither. Be sure to give this new blossom all of your love to help it thrive.”

“H...hai!”

The day came in late March, Winter still firmly gripping their province. Left at home with a neighbor, Hinata watched her father’s car pull away in the snow toward the local hospital.

Two people left...and a week later, two people came home.

The day prior, the phone had rung. Their neighbor’s face was strained, and somber. “...I see. No, I understand. I’ll leave such matters to you. Please, travel safely.”

When Hiashi walked in, a small bundle in his arms, Hinata ran to meet him. He walked past her, avoiding her eyes. Looking to the door, she waited for her mother.

And waited.

...and waited…

But she never came.

The baby was a girl. Hanabi, her name. And as her mother gave her life, so did she take life away.

One flower blossomed...and another withered away.

It took time to comprehend. Death was yet a foreign concept to one so young, not even yet five years old. But in time, she knew: her mother was not coming back. She had gone to a place Hinata could not yet follow. Not until it was her own time.

The old house grew quiet. Heavy. Still. Even the coming of Spring felt muted. Without her mother’s light, the colors felt faint. The breeze not so sweet. The warmth still tinged with an edge of cold.

...but...she did as her mother asked. Gave the new life the love she could. She didn’t yet make the connection - didn’t yet know that Hanabi’s life cost her their mother’s.

Only Hiashi knew...and he wasn’t telling.

Time, however, went ever marching forward. It bowed to no whim, not even grieving family. Soon Hinata was enrolled in the local school. Despite her mother’s loss, they remained in the big old house. Whether it was money, apathy, or something else, she didn’t know...but in reality, Hinata didn’t mind. This was home now. Even without her mother.

And as she got older, and bolder...she started, at last, to explore around their home. Hiashi, at first, had warned her not to wander. But his own melancholy meant a lighter regard for his eldest’s actions. And as she took to going further and further from home...he couldn’t bring himself to notice.

The field wasn’t of much interest. The rolling grass could hide many things, but most would scatter long before Hinata could so much as see them. A small creek ran along the front of the house, where tadpoles hid in pockets of slow water, little fish like silver streaks in the sunlight. Hinata could crouch at its edge for hours, watching water striders and crawfish go about their business. Even toads would amble about in the mud from time to time.

But what most held Hinata’s curiosity...was the wood behind the house. It stretched back for miles, up over the hills and toward the mountain that watched over their house.

At first, even her newfound bravery wasn’t enough to get her to step beneath the arching boughs of the trees. Shadows filled the nooks and crannies. And while the grass could hide little critters...the big trunks, rocks, and branches could be concealing any manner of creature…!

But now? Now, Hinata is twelve years old, nearly thirteen. She’s not the timid little kid she was before. And as the rift between herself and her family threatens to widen - Hiashi favoring his younger daughter, and Hanabi soaking up the attention like a sponge - Hinata finds herself...alone.

Staring with pale eyes into the wood, a pack on her shoulders with a bento for her hike...she takes her first steps into the treeline.

Almost immediately, the Summer air cools in the shade of the boughs. The sound of rustling leaves creates a quiet ambience, along with cicada calls and other gentle noises of the forest.

It feels so...peaceful here.

Continuing along a barely-hinted path, Hinata simply takes in the sights. True, there’s not much in the way of sightseeing: it’s mostly just trees, trees, and more trees. But then something catches her eye.

Along a deep divot in a large, old tree...a little shrine has been erected. A crooked tiny torī gate sits over a tiny jinja, an offering plate mostly bare...save for several pristine black feathers.

Hinata stares. Her family has never been overtly religious. They’ll visit a shrine on New Year’s, but...nothing more, save for funerals or weddings. But she has an overwhelming urge to leave something.

Taking her pack from her shoulders, Hinata digs out her bento. It’s not pretty: she was in a hurry to get out of the house this morning. Looking over her meager meal, she plucks a round red fruit from the corner, laying it on the dish before clapping her hands with a little bow. Once that’s done, she packs up her box and starts to move down the path.

But the soft whisper of feathers makes her pause...and look back.

...nothing.

...but, wait…

Her tomato is gone!

She stiffens, jogging back. Did a bird swoop down and steal it? How rude! Checking around the little shrine, she doesn’t see it: it didn’t fall...it must have been swiped.

“It’s been a while since someone left something here.”

Gasping, she stumbles back a few steps before collapsing to her backside. Looking up into the tree, she spots - perched on a branch - a boy in old clothes like she’s seen in her history books. But...another few moments of staring let her notice the dark, silky wings folded at his sides.

“You’re...y-you’re a…!”

“Tengu.” With that, he takes a sharp bite...out of her tomato!

“H-hey!”

“What?”

“That’s for the kami!”

The boy narrows his eyes with a pout. “And what do I look like to you?”

“I...I-I thought tengu were...yōkai…?”

He scoffs, taking another bite. “Shows what you know.” Chewing, he then explains, “We're the guardians of the mountain. And that includes here, too. So, the shrine’s ours. As it happens, I love tomatoes, so...I took it. As I should.”

Hinata just...blinks. In all reality, she never thought such a being was real, let alone that she could argue its category with it. Shifting to sit a bit more comfortably, she asks, “...so...you’re really not h-human…?”

After a pause, he flares his wings. “Do these look like something a human would have?”

“N...no…”

“So...no. I’m not human. I told you, I’m a tengu!”

“Can you fly…?”

“Of course I can fly!” Standing, he chucks the tomato stem into the foliage. With a flap, he glides down to the path in front of her. “See?”

The girl brightens with wonder. “That’s...amazing…!”

Ego clearly stoked, the boy gives another scoff...and a smile off to one side. “I’m a son of the clan head! He watches over this whole forest...and someday, my brother and I will, too!”

“You have a brother?”

“Mhm, he’s older than me...but I’m faster!”

“I-I have a little sister. She’s louder than me…”

“And you’re braver! I’ve seen you exploring around the woods...your sister never leaves that house!”

Hinata gives a soft laugh. “She doesn’t like outside...there’s dirt, and bugs.”

“Well of course there is! It’s outside!” As though floating, he lifts, folding his arms and legs before settling on the grass. “So...what are you doing in here, human? No one like you comes here anymore…”

“I guess I was just...curious. And I like being outside...away from the house.”

The tengu’s head tilts. “You don’t like your home…?”

“It’s...c-complicated. And...I’m not just human, ne? My name’s Hinata.”

“And I’m Sasuke!”

“Are there...more spirits in these woods?”

“Mhm. There’s not many humans, so we thrive here! My father was worried when you humans came to that house, but...none of you have bothered us.”

“E-except me…”

Sasuke considers her. “...well, you seem nice for a human. You even left a gift at the shrine. No one does that anymore…”

“I t-thought it would be polite.”

“Will you...come back?”

Hinata’s head tilts. “...I guess so. It’s a bit late, now...I should probably go home.”

“Already?”

“I don’t want my f-father to scold me.”

“Oh...okay.” With that, he leaps to his feet with a small flurry of air. “I’ll go with you. Make sure you don’t get lost.” Sasuke then offers a hand.

“...oh! T...thank you.” Letting him lift her, for a moment, Hinata feels light as a feather, floating as he did until touching the ground.

“Next time you come, I’ll show you more of the forest, okay? There’s even a river with a spirit in it, too!”

“Really…?”

“Yeah! She’s really nice, and kinda young...she formed from melting snow from the mountain when it took a new path, so...it formed a new river! And every river needs a spirit. And you can meet my brother, too! And maybe my cousins - I have lots!”

Brightening, Hinata gives a smile. “I...I would like that!”

The pair make their way back to the entrance of the path, overlooking the field as afternoon starts to fade into evening. “Well...here we are.”

“Thank you for t-taking me back.”

Sasuke nods...and then jolts with an idea. “Oh, wait!” Flaring a wing, he carefully plucks a feather. “Here...take this with you.”

Eyes wide, Hinata gently cradles it in her palm. “...but…?”

“If you let the wind take it, it’ll lead you back to the shrine, so I can find you again!”

Realizing what a gift this is, Hinata gives a little bow. “Thank you v-very much!”

“Sure! But you better get home, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Can you...come back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I can! But pretty soon, I’ll have school.”

“School…?”

“Where I go to learn things!”

“Oh…” Sasuke’s head tilts. “Strange…”

That earns a soft giggle. “G-goodbye, Sasuke-kun!”

“See you tomorrow!” The little tengu waves as she jogs back down the field toward the house. Then, with a whisper of feathers, he disappears.

                                                         .oOo.

     Well, this is kinda random, but...I like it! I always like the idea of Japanese mythology being "real", so...hence doing so every so often with these prompts. This was based a LITTLE bit on My Neighbor Totoro! Only...I guess it's My Neighbor Sasuke, lol      Anyway, I'm...very tired. Strange day, and it ended on a rather sour note, so...I'm gonna go try to sleep it off~ Thanks for reading!

[unicorn-sprinkles-101]

I'm an autistic, mentally ill young adult who very desperately needs to find a new place to live.

I can't exactly recount what happened during most of my childhood but I have to say that my parents have drastically spiraled out of control since then. 

My mother had never really been a big impact on my life other than being my primary guardian and taking me from place to place. Other than that, she has little to no emotional connection to me and especially not now. I don't really "hate" anyone listed here, I just don't care for my family anymore and don't want anything to do with any of them.

My mother is completely unable to work, relying mostly on disability since I was a baby due to an ongoing condition. My father refuses to get a better job to support my mother and I, often leaving us with around $5-$10 at a for gas money (often with tons of quarters) or to take with me when it is absolutely required.

Now that I've turned 18, things have gotten much harder when it comes to me being used for financial gain. I do admit that alot of that money was used towards me in some way or another while I was growing up, but not anymore.

While my father is unable to let go of grandmother's old house (which has gone to shambles), one of my mother's friends has lives under us in the basement after being rendered homeless, which can make akward when describing family troubles.

She started living with us a while ago after her trailer finally caved in after we packed water jugs back and forth to her location for several years.

Ever since she moved here, she's developed an overbearing attachment to her "animals". It got so bad she refused time and time again to put her very ill 16-year-old dog to sleep, rendering them unable to walk, see, eat or hear for months on end. The breaking point was when they bled out all over the kitchen (which we knew would happen eventually), which was traumatic for us and highly unnecessary for the dog to go through considering how miserable they were when they came here.

She has made tons very rude and hurtful comments to me about how I'm such an "abuser" when I told her dogs (she has 3) to go away or get off the couch in front of her. She often claims that I'm abusive towards my guinea pigs, saying that I don't "take care of [my] animals".

This friend of my mother has also made comments ranging from my weight to my behavior and called me names ranging from "brat" to the more recent "trashy white girl" while my mother rolls her eyes and tells me it was all just a joke.

She's physically done things towards me such as shoving me out of the way, crushing me on the bed, and almost hauling a foot tall scratching post towards my direction after I refused to get her a broom the second she demanded it (I ended up getting it for her anyway.

However, physical altercations between me and my mom's friend are very rare and this type of behavior is often seen as the norm in my area, so unless it's something that left bruises or sexual assault, it isn't really that big of a deal compared to the other stuff I face on a daily basis.

It only got worse after I graduated from highschool. It got so bad that it became worse than all of the countless harassment I faced throughout my highschool education combined.

I was forced to give up over 3/4s of my $700 worth of graduation money to my mother in order to pay off bills, food, and other neccessities. While I ended up snagging some small gifts for myself (apx. $120) before it was all sucked up, I know I'll probably never be able to get paid back that amount of money from either one of them and I feel extremely cheated as a result.

While I was legitimately excited to see them grow as people in a good home, my sister's kids have drastically changed for the worse ever since they've been shoved in a tiny old trailer and moved back to the classic small town community full of people with money (maybe extracurriculars will keep them busy).

The youngest of them (8), who is often dumped here on a daily basis, has disrespected us in a variety of ways including: eating at the computer after my mom's friend made a rule not to, not picking up after themselves when they did so (often leaving uneaten food out), and using every other dollar my mom had to go get candy and drinks from the Dollar Store (they stole my leftover change in front of me and lied about it, but that was a one-time occurrence).

The back room often smells like trash because my mother puts off going to the dump until the very last minute.

Nobody can keep up with the animals, use a flyswatter on the cat to keep it from climbing everything and having to lock it up so it wouldn't take the food straight off our plates while we were eating.

While two of the dogs from my mom's friend stay downstairs in the basement, the third one stays up here and refuses to go downstairs.

The dog is well-behaved (aside from agressive barking) but while it doesn't pee anywhere in the house (as far as we know), it appears to leave, traces of leftover urine on pillows, blankets, and the furniture (or at least the odor, although I felt small wet spots on the couch before) which could spread germs, not good for someone with a few open sores.

None of them use leashes, so when this dog bursts out the door it takes off up the street aggressively barking at everyone and everything, with little to no repercussions from either adult. The overly intense noise from this small dog has gotten way out of hand, making me a nervous wreck.

These two stress factors combined with everything else makes it impossible to keep the house clean by nearly any means (I'm doing my best just to sweep off the porch).

I'm grateful that my mom's friend took one last shot at trying to clean up the bedroom, but there's no point in trying to keep anything kept up when all it does is get destroyed.

Moving to my own place means I won't have to look after anyone else but me and my pets (guinea pigs). However, I don't have anyone to support me in my endeavors.

As my parents often failed to attend my physical and emotional needs, I became highly unstimulated and constantly stressed as a result. This has lead to severe bouts of depression and executive dysfunction, which has caused my mom's friend's harassment to get even worse.

Not only did they fail to properly take care of my needs all throughout highschool, we've never been able to afford ANY sort of renovations to the house during our residence here (about 8 years), aside from basic roofing which was performed by a small Hispanic business instead of a professional company. 

The only two instances of DIY fix-ups I can remember during my 8 years here are replacing the shattered windows with plexiglass (which happened years ago) and recently restoring some of the rotten floorboards under the washer that were caked in mold.

The simple act of taking a shower has now become one of my worst dreaded nightmares and unless I move to a safe environment then I won't ever be able to properly take care of myself like I dream of doing someday.

Even though it'll take top surgery to make me feel comfortable taking showers again, moving to an inspected apartment means I  have one less worry about falling through the basement and the rancid smell of burnt urine that sometimes reeks from the basement.

I never went outside much, aside from sitting on the corner of the porch since the rest of it was turned green by air conditioning water and the walkway was flooded by overgrown plants (even they've been given more respect than I have).

I often vented through various social platforms but I decided that enough is enough: I needed to grow as a person and stop shoving all my problems on others.

It was then I knew I had to find a way to escape. Unfortunately, in order to move out I needed at least a little bit of stable funding, which I'm very, very far from.

My sensory issues make it hard to gain interests in whatever food was cooked (ex. spaghetti, dumplings), and I didn't have the desire to eat expired canned greens from the food bank, which have since been covered in roach poo. They're pretty much everywhere you go.

Even the cleanest of countertops could be seen crawling with a few roaches. They reside deep within the microwave along with fried maggots from ages ago.

They have also made their way into the refrigerator, making it difficult to scour what little there is without feeling grossed out. It's getting harder day by day to tell the difference between of the smallest of bugs and pepper. Since we we can't afford a closed-top hamper, our dirty clothes are often covered in roaches trying to find a place to hide, making it difficult to gather the strength to wash them like I should.

They've also taken over my computer, rendering my unable to even touch it for months.

No amount of bombing, traps, or pesticides will clear them either. They were there to begin with, and they always come back.

There's even been an increase in other types of bugs, most notably fly's and gnats.

The Crock-Pot would often fill up with mold  every other week because me and my mother didn't like chowing down on her friend's grand "homestyle cooking" every day. 

We didn't eat it as much as we should've because it was often bland in taste and we don't know how to make her stop (I know I can't). She ended up making a fuss when we tried to make suggestions, so we let her get what she wants even if it wasting precious ingredients we could've used to make something we could actually eat.

To make up for it, I often had to buy single cans of Spaghettio's at a time from the Dollar Store and call it my meal for the day. 

Now it seems like I can't even do THAT anymore. 

It got to the point where I even considered that any drink besides water, hell even soda, could have some sort of nutritional value. It was better that eating nothing, after all.

I often pondered mother's financial choices when came to these things but as we all have been told "mother knows best" and we as children should not be allowed to question our parent's decision.

She recently told me my SSI completely cut because the government labels me as "being able to work".  It turns out that they cut my disability check as opposed to SSI but I'm still left just as broken inside as before.

Why? Because there's absolutely no way I can save up such a large amount, we need every last drop to survive off of. I've used a very small portion of it to buy some little stuff to help me cope from time to time, but I'm gonna refrain from that from now on until I completely move out.

Even though the issue has been resolved for now, I'm tired of being dragged through hoops when I know they'll just try to cut it off again. I can't keep staying here because I'm sick and tired of having our only source of income dangling on a string.

I would really like to gain some much needed work experience and I plan on applying to Wal-Mart as soon as I upload this post.

However, there's one problem: I have no source of reliable transportation to get to my job.

My mother had to borrow money off of my grandmother (as she has done in the past) in order to have the gas to pick me up from therapy this week. While that tank of gas may last a bit, this is not sustainable enough for me to keep any sort of job regardless if it were part-time or full-time. The three job options in this very small town don't offer a position that would be comfortable enough for me to perform the tasks I am assigned and two are often known for mistreating their staff members on a regular basis.

Another reason I want to get a job in a bigger city is so I can continue to work once I move closer to Wal-Mart, which will save tremendous amounts of gas money and time. To avoid the trauma of driving, I will probably be using a transport bus as opposed to using a car.

The reason it appears that I don't look after my guinea pigs as much as I should is because their cages are inaccessible making it excruciatingly difficult to clean their cages and fufill their needs. With my own apartment to live in, I will have the ability make room for them and I can organize a place for my piggies in a much more open location free of mess.

I'd really like to keep them with me when I move alone, especially considering that I adopted one all the way from Louisville (I live around the west side of KY). I want to give Marlene the proper life she deserves after traveling across the state to take her beautiful soul home with me.

While I probably won't have access to a small animal veterinarian to get a proper diagnosis, my older guinea pig Chloe (about 4 years) had a massive tumor/cyst on her leg burst open a while back.

Her weight has drastically increased to the point where she feels like a limp water balloon when I attempt to pick her up, so it lead me to assume that her body is slowly being taken over by some form of internal cancer.

Even though there's nothing I can do to heal her, my ultimate wish is for Chloe to drift away peacefully in a safe environment free of bugs and other filth. This means that not only do I have myself to care for, but my two precious babies as well.

I admit that I have been going through a slow regression in regards to financial behavior, but I would love to learn how to shop responsibly while keeping my true interests at heart. I have plenty of plushies and figurines to keep me company at the moment. Some I'll sell to make room for new ones, but most of them will there to  comfort me during stressful times.

After buying one of the most beautiful children's lamps I had ever seen at GoodWill, I soon found out that buying doesn't have to be boring and dull like all the adults have told us all our lives. I learned that you should buy furniture and clothes based on how it makes you feel instead of relying on others to tell you what to do, I would love to purchase decorations for my apartment that reflect who I want to become as a person.

Not everything should have to be about scrounging for my next meal.

However, the funds from this will go towards covering down-payment, rental costs, and buying a new setup for my guinea pigs if they are allowed at the apartment (I don't want to track bugs from the old cages, plus they need a bigger space).

I wanted to let you guys know that I will have to use a portion of the donations

to cover my mother's monthly electric bill. As much as I want to talk myself out of it, she literally relies on me for money so I don't exactly have the ability to opt-out of that right now.

The extra stuff (such as small appliances, furniture, groceries, and of course... a limited-edition plush or two) will be paid for using a compilation of my paycheck and whatever I earn off of Redbubble.

I'd love to start a YouTube channel where I do things like art, gaming, and reviews to strengthen my voice and get it out into the world in a peaceful, sanitary environment free from interruptions or harassment over a seemingly innocent/important subject matter.

There's lots of things that I missed out on when I was younger and I bet it would be so awesome to finally express myself free of constant toxicity and hatred.

I deeply love OK K.O. and I'd love to honor the impact that this person of color and his creation has left on me someday, as well as continue down my path of original content that I've been waiting to share with you guys!

[uncommonfauna]

In 1972 Janet Clifton, an Osage woman, walked into the IHS in Clairemore, Oklahoma. For years she had been having severe pelvic cramps and they had become too much to bear. She was put in a gown and lead to a room in which sat the dreaded stirruped chair many women have despised since it’s invention. The anxiety is understandable even in modern times when women’s healthcare is arguably the most advanced it’s ever been. It’s frightening, then, to imagine approaching that chair in the 60’s and 70’s, when modern women’s healthcare was in it’s infancy, and for a Native American woman, it could be absolutely terrifying. 

When Janet signed in to the clinic, she’d been asked the usual questions, one of which was ‘are you married’, which she was, and was asked if she had any children, which she did. Three to be exact. She was only twenty-five and all her children were born just under three years, so it is no surprise that when she was asked if she was religious she replied that she was Catholic. Christianity and native Americans have a strange relationship. The religion was used to justify atrocities done to us too numerous not only for this paper, but for anyone to ever list. Arguably it’s greatest crime was to mold itself into a cardboard beacon, offering native Americans sanctuary from it’s own ugliness. For centuries Native American men made the decision to convert for the rest of the family. The rules of life changed for them, but it’s unclear if they realized the changes it meant for their wives. Their roles in many nations were reduced, as was their agency over their bodies. Contraceptives in their earliest days were known throughout the world, including the Americas, yet now they were forbidden. As ridiculous and ineffective as they could be, they at least offered the illusion of body autonomy, mostly for women. 

When Janet went to the IHS the Women’s Health Movement (WHM) had only recently begun, along with second wave feminism. It spoke loftily and justly about abortion rights and about changing the traditional maternity ward practices into more family oriented ones, with the fathers allowed in the delivery room. There was a resurgence of midwifery. However, these improvements did not scratch the blood soaked surface of Native American health care. As Janet lay in the chair, three white doctors entered the room. The Indian Clinic did not have any native doctors, so doctors were driven in from nearby Tulsa Oklahoma, thus continuing the tradition of white doctors working with an exclusively non-white clientele. “I felt like I was being experimented on,” she would later say. She would be in good company. A Google search of “experiments on native women” will instantly bring up several articles about the forced sterilization of Native American women, and many give examples of experimental procedures that were performed in front of many doctors under the guise of research. Janet, who only wanted treatment for what we now know as polycystic ovary syndrome, never knew she would join their ranks. “One of the doctors told me that they were going to burn the cysts off. The procedure was never really explained to me and it was probably a combination of me being a woman and being Native American. They thought I was too dumb to understand anyway.” Had she known more on the subject she might have thought he was referring to a ovarian wedge resection, a common treatment at the time. It involves opening the patient up in an operating theater and exposing the ovaries. The cysts are then carefully removed with a cauterization tool not only keep the cyst from bursting, but to ensure the ovary heals properly. Instead of doing this, Janet and her doctors remained in the exam room where he gave her a local anesthetic, inserted a cauterizing into her vaginally, and performed what was most likely a tubal litigation. This is the most common form of female sterilization and only severs the fallopian tubes. My grandmother’s painful ovaries would remain untouched and untreated.  

“I remember smelling something burning,” recalled Janet, “I looked down and saw smoke.”She was sent home directly after the procedure, unaware of what had actually happened to her and uninformed of the possible side effects. There was pain, of course, and in a candid moment she also confessed that she was never able to feel sexual pleasure with her husband again. Worst of all, because there had been no attempt to treat the cysts, and the pain that started the entire ordeal returned within weeks. 

Pain seems to be woven into the fabric of every Native American woman’s life and this has not gone unnoticed artists, native and non-native alike. When native women are not posing nude on a biker’s bicep, we are huddled into blankets, riding our horses, our backs bent and heads hung low. Sometimes we stand on hills, gazing at nothing with blank faces and sometimes we kneel by our tipis and look at the ground. Though the past few decades have brought forward more animated depictions of Native American women, my grandmother’s house was filled with the old fashioned kind. As a child, I thought they were pretty, if boring. I never perceived any greater meaning than a woman simply looking down. Maybe she was watching a bug. As a child I was also blissfully unaware of the majority of the atrocities faced by our people and what I did know, I largely new in name only. It wasn’t until I grew older that I’d look at these paintings and think ‘huh, she actually looks kinda sad’. Now I look at these paintings and think ‘she looks utterly defeated’. Knowing what really happened to us makes me notice details I never had before, like how so many of them have textbook thousand yard stares while portraits of chiefs and warriors in the same stye still seem to have fire in their eyes. The men are also more likely to be depicted upright, whether standing or on horseback, still tall in some way or another. The woman have deflated. We slump over our horse’s necks, we kneel, we sit. It seems as though these women have accepted that pain is just something they must endure silently and with dignity, whatever the source. My grandmother is not like these women, so when the pain that had sent her to the doctor in the first place returned, so did she. 

The doctors made little effort with pretense this time - she would have a hysterectomy and that was that. At this point there was no reason to try and treat her as Janet could no longer have children, and in the end her hysterectomy would succeed in ridding her of her pain. Why then does it seem to hold so much more significance? European invaders managed to erase many aspects of various indigenous cultures, but some roots run too deep to be completely torn out and in so many of our cultures it was the female ability bring forth life that created the world. The association with women and new life was so strong that even in some nations it was observed that women sewed the seeds for the new crops and tended to them, but it was the men who reaped them. Their reasoning was that women brought life, and men took it. Some Lakota Sioux would not acknowledge a girl’s transition to womanhood until she has had a child. This doesn’t mean that a woman’s only value was her ability to have children and in many nations women held high political power, were religious leaders, and even warriors. Still, it is virtually impossible to completely separate a woman’s potential reproductive capabilities and how she was viewed in societies that place more value on the concept of new life, birth, or rebirth. So many Native American nations fell into this category, and on some level or another, a woman’s womb was sacred. In 1972, at age 25, my grandmother’s was ripped from her body.

From an outsiders perspective, it seems as though these sterilized women have become those broken women from the paintings. In doing research for this paper, I found very little. The ambiguity is unsettling. Is the near total absence of initial medical documentation a result of apathy towards Native American health, or an intentional coverup? Did the women affected not speak out about this at the time because of the taboo around reproductive systems? Was it shame, or a feeling that no one would listen anyway? I have to wonder, too, how many woman are like my grandmother who only now realizes what was done to her. Whitehorse also did not realize what happened to her until later. “I was trying to have more babies, but was having trouble getting pregnant, so I went to the IHS clinic. That’s when they told me about what they did to me,” She said. She had been sterilized during a previous surgery.“I was in so much pain when I went in for the appendectomy; they gave me a bunch of papers to sign. They never explained anything to me; I had no idea I was giving them permission to sterilize me.” she said. It wasn’t only abdominal pain that allowed doctors to trick women into sterilization. One of the more famous cases of sterilization involved two girls, both under fifteen years old, who were sterilized during surgery to remove their tonsils. It’s been estimated that between 1960 and 1970, for every seven native babies born, one woman was sterilized, culminating in roughly 25% of the potentially fertile female population. Even this was not enough of an attack on the Native American woman. Native American boarding schools, run by the BIA (Bureau of Indian Affairs) where still common in that era. A 1971 census stated that approximately 35,000 Native American children lived in boarding schools rather than at home. In these schools, children were stripped of their language, their culture, their religion, their names, and often, their sanity. Abuse was rampant and the chances of escape were bleak. While non-native children were begging for bell bottoms and watching t.v, two native boys fled, only to freeze to death in their attempt to return home. Suicide rates amongst teenage boarders could reach as high as one hundred times the national average. The rest of the nation, if it noticed, soon turned away and continued to focus on disco. Native mothers could do little to stop the abuse of their children, but a growing number were being offered a choice. If they agreed to be sterilized, their existing children might be allowed to stay with them. It can’t be said if it was in defeat or defiance that a mother made her choice, whichever it was. It would a lie to say that no woman was defeated, and sat slumped over a bottle of whiskey rather than a horse.

However, when my grandmother was wheeled into the recovery bay, she discovered that she was not the only woman who refused stoop down and be silent, though she did not yet know what bond she shared with these women. They were a small group, all in various stages of recovery. They smiled and chatted if and when they could, and because the nurses were about as helpful as a match under water, they tended to each other. The women adjusted each others hospital beds by hand, fetched each other glasses of water and just as importantly, they kept each other in good spirits. Decades later, Janet will still smile and laugh when she remembers a woman that was truly fed up with the barely edible hospital food. “You guys want some pizza?” The woman had asked, and then she got up and climbed out the window. A while later she returned the same way, pizza in hand. They might have been neglected and in pain, but in that moment they were normal women diving into a pizza and giddy with their own mischief. It seems like such a small gesture, valuable in that it’s a light hearted tidbit from an otherwise tragic story, but it is so much more than that. Expand the perspective and you’ll find it’s really the story of how a Native American woman was had her reproductive organs seared into oblivion against her will by white doctors, was neglected by nurses in a recovery room filled with strangers, and this woman still had the strength and spark to climb out a window and return with pizza to share with her sisters. Our solidarity is our fortitude. Native women have an incredible ability to come together and to accomplish incredible things. One of they key elements that allows us to do this is our ability to communicate with each other, and despite what modern white hippies may think, we can’t do that with telepathy and talking animals. I would not have been able to tell my grandmother’s story without calling her and having several lengthy phone calls. This chapter of our history is in danger of being forgotten. It’s imperative we learn as much as we can, but that is not enough. It’s through communication that bond over our people’s losses and triumphs and encourage others to learn along with us. If I am to end this essay with one request, it is that when you read this chapter of our history, please read it out loud. 

—- This essay is dedicate to Janet Stork, I cannot give enough thanks to my grandmother for letting me interview her. Rather than mourn her loss, she seemed happy throughout every conversation, as if she was glad that someone wanted to hear what she had to say. This is such a sensitive topic, one that would make many young students here cringe and shy away from, but my grandmother made every conversation a comfortable one. No question was off limits, there was no withholding of details. I feel so lucky to have a grandmother like her, and I’m amazed that it’s through her strength I exist today. 

[snarky-styles]

“So, like…” She began, sliding the ice cream over to him, “Are you still hungry? Or thirsty, whatever it is,” “You did interrupt me mid-bite,” He muttered, accepting the ice cream cup. She narrowed her eyes at him, “So sorry I interrupted your mealtime with my freshly baked cookies and heart-drawn bags,” “Fair,” He accepted. “You didn’t answer my question,” She said, not looking at him. It was already taking all of her bravery to ask this, she couldn’t dare look him in the eye at the same time. “I’m still sorta hungry, but you don’t have to worry abou- oh!” He exclaimed, widening his eyes. “Oh? I- Really?” He asked, sounding shocked. “I mean… If you want. I took an iron pill this morning, but…” She said sheepishly. “You took an iron pill?” He asked, smiling. She nodded, “Isn’t that supposed to make your blood strong? I don’t know how it affects taste, but maybe it’ll stop me from passing out in your house,” She explained, rambling slightly. He only smiled at her, “That’s adorable,” She blushed, “It’s whatever, I was just… I mean, looking out for my health,” she said, making no sense. He giggled, “Course you were,”

or

Harry is a weird vampire and curiosity killed Y/N

Y/N had always been a curious person. At a young age, her parents can recall her crawling and waddling herself into trouble more often than most toddlers. She loved to explore, having broken out of her crib a couple of times until they were forced to buy a taller, safer one. She was unstoppable in this aspect, even as a child, she would run and look around the house, stumbling across many interesting objects in her parents and siblings rooms. People always told her she would make a good detective, especially teachers, since she looked in places and noticed things many didn’t, but she thought she’d be rather awful at the job. You see, she was always getting herself into some sort of trouble. Or, trouble was always finding her, at least that’s what her mom said. When she was old enough, she’d walk home from school on her own, wandering into the woods and exploring for awhile until she was covered in scratches and bug bites. She even got poison Y/N once, which was a real killer to deal with and almost discouraged her from entering that wooded area again. Almost. Outside of school, she was always sneaking out of her bedroom late at night to wander around, something her parents knew about, but didn’t care to put an end to. She never hurt herself too bad, besides a sprained ankle that one time she tried to cross a creek and tripped over a rock, and they learned early on she was a force to be reckoned with. They couldn’t be bothered, especially since she was a great kid in every other aspect. However, she did get a good scolding the time she decided to sleep out in the country when she drove too far out and didn’t want to make the journey back home at such a late hour. By the time she was off to college, she had explored every nook and cranny of her town, entered every abandoned building and climbed way too many stores and buildings for her to count. She had gotten the reputation of being “a bit odd” due to her late night excursions and several sightings of her sitting on roofs, but she really didn’t mind. It was all in good fun, anyways. Maybe her inclination to experiment was due to her hippie upbringing or her parents encouraging her to look into things that she was interested in. It could have even been the gymnast lessons she took that made her body more flexible and willing to climb, run, and jump. Either way, she blamed this odd, trouble inducing, characteristic for the situation she was in now. She was walking home from her early morning class at uni. The whole “early morning” part really pissed her off, by the way, considering it was her only class of the day. Since it was so early, she still had to wake up at the ass crack of dawn just to go to an hour class and have nothing to do the rest of the day. She felt more irked about this today than she normally did and her being more irked than usual always led to some sort of bad decision on her part. Today’s bad decision was breaking into a fence that clearly had the sign “no trespassing” nailed to it. This particular decision had been in the making for awhile now. Every time she took this specific back route to her apartment, she would pass by this rather large home. It was seemingly abandoned and ancient and each time she saw it, her curiosity towards it strengthened. The building itself was browned with age with dark green detailing swirled around the closed doors and empty balconies. The windows were intricately outlined by floral carvings, but they were impossible to see through since thick, dark curtains hung on the inside. There were never any cars in the driveway, something she looked for the first time she passed by the area, and from what she could tell, there were never any lights on. Due to its’ age, she wondered if it even had electricity. She supposed it didn’t matter much, since she was convinced no one lived in there, besides some wayward spirits. It was the cliche horror house of her dreams and it took everything in her not to just break in through the front door every time she passed by. She’d told her roommate, Emma, about her moral dilemma of breaking into the place and received a very Emma answer. Emma wasn’t very interested in Y/N’s excursions, never one to go out with her on her many fun (or so she said, dangerous) adventures. “That place is infested with demons, and If it isn’t, there’s probably black mold and asbestos everywhere. Even you’re not dumb enough to step foot in that death zone,” Y/N fondly recalled the loving words of her roommate right as her hand went for the knob of the door. She was dumb enough to step foot in the death zone and she was mighty excited for it. Her class had been just as boring as it always was, if not worse, and she was still slightly hungover from her self indulgent bottle of wine last night for passing her math test. She needed a pick me up and the creepy house with the broken down fence was the perfect opportunity. With her backpack slung over her shoulder and her phone light gripped tightly in her hand, she entered the threshold. She was expecting the place to be dark, beaten down and dusty as hell, hence her phone flashlight being on full blast, but she was met with a very different scene. The foyer was still dimly lit, the only light source being candles that lined the wall, but it was anything from broken down and dusty. There was a beautiful, deep red rug covering what looked like very old wooden flooring and two antique tables pushed up against each wall. Both tables had a vase filled with red roses, which looked freshly picked. This all aroused suspicion, with the smell of flowers in her nostrils and an impulsive voice in her mind telling her to carry onward, she walked further into the house. She tried to tell herself that she only walked deeper into the place because she could see the next room through the doorway, that if there wasn’t that sneak peek, she would have left instantly due to the many red flags presenting themselves to her. She never had good common sense and once again, was dreadful at following normal decision making processes, so she was really lying to herself with that one. Many people get a gut feeling or a bad taste in their mouth when something goes wrong, but she only gets curious and excited when she encounters something suspicious, which only eggs her on to carry her awful ideas through. This could definitely count as an awful idea, but she didn’t see that just yet. With quiet footsteps and knitted eyebrows, she entered a large sitting room. A matching red rug with beige floral detailing covered the large expanse of the floor and above it was antique furniture covered in red velvet material. There were bronze end tables with vases of roses at the end of each sofa and an ornate coffee table in the middle of the square of plush sofas. The walls were lined with bookshelves, jam packed full of books that looked like they weren’t even from this century, or the last one. Y/N almost walked over to one of them, wanting to run her fingers over the spines, or even grab one to see just how old they were. But, she saw something that caught her eye and made her freeze in her tracks. There was a book open on the table, a delicate china teacup next to it. It looked like a scene set in a historic home to give the viewer the idea that someone could live in it, but she had an inkling of a feeling that that wasn’t the intent. She narrowed her eyes, not wanting to move from her spot in the doorway, but also itching to examine the book and the expensive looking dishware. She blamed her love of all things antique on her next move. With careful steps, as to not make the floor creak, she approached the coffee table and glanced down at the book and the teacup. She instantly regretted this decision, which rarely happened in her adventures. The book, which was the least frightening of the two, was written in a language that she couldn’t even discern. There weren’t even letters that she recognized, only odd looking symbols that looked out of a spellbook. She wondered if it actually was a spellbook and if even looking at it would curse her and her family for the next one hundred years, but currently that was the least of her problems. Because, next to the book, the teacup, looked to be filled with blood. She looked down at it, slightly horrified, and examined the seemingly thick liquid that was emitting steam that smelled of metal. You would think that after finding a cup of blood and a book that looked straight from a witch’s home, she would regret her decision, but it wasn’t until someone else walked into the room did she realize she had made a mistake. She heard them before she saw them, the patting of their footsteps and their slight humming. They didn’t sound scary, so maybe that’s why she stood planted in her spot and only watched the entryway to the other room, waiting for whoever it was to see her. In these few moments was when she realized she was not only breaking and entering, but breaking and entering into the home of someone who not only read a language she had never seen before, had no electricity, but also drank blood. She was utterly fucked at this point, or at least she thought she was, until she saw the person who walked into the room. He looked as young as she did, with ruffled brown hair, dressed in comfy looking sweats and a t-shirt. His thin, yet defined, arms were covered in a scattering of tattoos of various ink intensities. To be honest, he looked like someone she could have in her art class, just another inked up boy with a charming face. Nothing about him was imposing, especially since he was carrying a tray of delicately iced cookies. At first, he didn’t notice her since he was looking down at his own feet, but when he did look up, sniffing the air slightly, he looked excited to see her. This was disturbing in more ways than one. Sure, he looked normal, but let us review the things in this home that were the very opposite of normal. The teacup filled with steaming blood. The weird spellbook. No electricity. The only way he noticed her was because he sniffed the air. “Oh, hello!” He smiled, showing sharp, pointed teeth and revealing a British accent that she barely noticed (See: “sharp, pointed teeth”). Her jaw dropped. He closed his mouth immediately, as if he had forgotten he had two very noticeable dagger looking teeth hidden behind his lips. He still smiled with his lips closed, which was very off-putting when it came to a normal person and was significantly worse when the person was a vampire.   She had seen a lot of things in her day, even encountered some forest nymphs one rainy day when she took a stroll through the woods, but never had she ever believed she would see something straight out of twilight. “Um,” She swallowed, “Hello,” He looked pleased with this greeting, like no one had ever said hi to him before. “Are you lost? Would you like t’ sit down?” He asked kindly, gesturing to the many sofas in the room. Her heart was beating at an alarming rate at this point and if she knew anything about vampires, she knew he could hear it. “I, uh, just took a wrong turn. I should really get going,” She said, trying her best to keep her voice normal as she prepared to run the hell out of this place. He frowned, looking disappointed. He was very cute, which was something she reluctantly noticed. “What’s your name?” He asked, bright eyes looking hopeful for conversation. She almost felt bad for him. From what she could tell, he was really shit at being a vampire. She wasn’t even scared of him, well, she was, but mostly just the concept of him. Not only was he shit at being his own species, he seemed really lonely. “Y/N,” She told him, eyes wide as she anxiously ran her thumb repeatedly over the back of her phone case. “I’m Harry,” He said proudly, setting down the cookies on the coffee table. “Nice to meet you, Harry. I… Have a class to go to,” She lied, rather poorly, before turning on her heel without even a goodbye and walking quickly to the exit. She was breathing heavy at this point, barely even registering that he shouted goodbye to her and broke into a run as soon as she shut the door behind her. She kept running, she ran until she felt like her lungs were going to explode and her legs were going to give out. Her heart was still thumping loud and fast, not only because of her lack of exercise as of late, but because of the ice cold terror running through her veins. It was days like today she really wished she had some sort of common sense and/or precaution. As she opened the door to her shared apartment, her breathing was almost back to normal, but it wasn’t hard for Emma to notice something was up since Y/N’s eyes were still wide. “What happened?” She asked, almost immediately. Y/N looked to see that she was laying on the couch, looking over the top of her book and directly at Y/N. Y/N only stared back at her blankly, before throwing herself onto the sofa next to Emma. Emma, who was used to this sort of behavior from her odd roommate, only stared at her and waited for an answer. “I think I… broke into a vampire’s house,” Y/N remarked, saying it as though she had just come to terms with it herself. Emma hummed, not sounding too phased by this groundbreaking news, “You need new hobbies,” She told her, eyes turning back to her book. Y/N relaxed into the sofa, eyes turning to look up at the popcorn ceiling above her. “He had a really nice house, lots of antique furniture,” She muttered, feeling like she was melting into the cushions. She felt calmer than before, her body coming down from her fearful high and making her feel like she was floating. “He? You met him?” Emma asked, still not taking her eyes off of her book as she flipped the page. “Well, yeah. How else would I know he’s a vampire?” Y/N inquired, lazily turning her head to the side to glance at Emma. Emma bit her lip, thinking for a moment, “Not sure,” “What was he like?” She asked, finally taking her eyes off of her book to look to Y/N, who was staring her down. “Looked pretty normal actually, he was wearing sweats. His name’s Harry,” She said, listing off the information she retained during the nerve-wracking experience. “You got his name?” Emma asked, sounding shocked. Y/N nodded, “Weird, right? He was British, I think. It even sounded like he wanted me to stay,” Emma rolled her eyes, “Wanted you for dinner, I bet. Don’t go around there again. Go to a bookstore or something if you get bored, ok?” Y/N scoffed, turning her head in the other direction. “The day I go to a bookstore when I’m bored is the day I die,” Y/N was incredibly bored. And she was in a bookstore. It all started after her dreadful early class, which her opinions on have already been discussed. Her mind was numb from the science lecture she just had to sit through and she needed to do something to get out of this funk. She didn’t even have her walk home to look forward too, since lately she had been taking the boring route home to her apartment, due to a mysterious mansion that was inhabited by a certain friendly vampire. The first couple of days after the encounter, she tried her best to forget about it, or convince herself it was some sort of hoax, but as the days went on, she found herself unable to forget the cozy looking vampire she had met. He seemed really interesting, or at least more interesting than a normal vampire, which was really weird to think about. She considered going to see him, entertained the idea for maybe a second before she realized she was crazy and even a friendly vampire is still a vampire. So, with the fluffy haired vampire in the back of her mind, she decided to walk around the town. There were always cute stores and coffee shops on every corner, doing their best to appeal to the college students in the surrounding areas. She was going to get some coffee, read up on her research project, and then maybe get some food, but something caught her eye. A small bookshop was tucked away in the corner of an alleyway, with a small old fashioned sign on the window saying it was open. It was very rare she took anyone’s advice, but she had a feeling Emma was right about this one. The place had a certain old fashioned warmth to it that made her feel welcome, so with Emma’s advice in mind, she reluctantly, having forgotten her declaration a few days ago, opened the door to the shop and stepped into the musky smelling threshold. The smell of the old books calmed her and the fact that it was deserted, besides a very old woman who greeted her when she walked in, was comforting to her. She wasted no time in going to the shelf that held the books she thought looked the oldest. A brown spined book caught her eyes and she picked it up gently in her hands, instinctively checking the front page to see how old it was. Her eyebrows were knitted together as she was met with familiar letters that she couldn’t distinguish. She placed the book back in it’s spot, face still furrowed with confusion as she reached for another one that looked equally as ancient. She flipped it open to a random page, squinting at the small print that remained in the same lettering as before. Her heart rate was increasing slightly, suddenly recalling where it was she saw this odd print. Almost as soon as she made this realization, a voice called out her name in surprise. With the book still in her hands, she turned around to see local friendly (maybe) vampire Harry, looking like an everyday college student. He didn’t much look like a vampire at all, which conflicted with her natural fear of him. He wore black track pants, lined with a red stripe down the side, along with a plain white t-shirt. Not to mention, his face, when his fangs weren’t on display, was naturally friendly and welcoming. He had kind eyes, the type of green that are inviting and warm, along with attractive, yet soft, features that would make her swoon if she knew he didn’t drink steaming blood from teacups. He had a stack of books in his arms, holding them easily against his chest. She blinked at him a couple of times, processing the appearance and existence of him before, unfortunately, remembering a certain declaration she had made. A declaration that had something to do with her eternal boredom, bookshops, and dying. At that moment, as Harry smiled at her, she came to the conclusion that she was fucked. She thought, with some regret, that dying at the hand of a cute vampire couldn’t be too bad, but really, dying is dying. “Didn’t know you liked shops like this,” He said, repositioning the books in his arms. She gave him a wide eyed stare, dropping the book she held in her hands to the floor. She really didn’t consider herself a coward, facing most situations brazenly, but right now, all traces of bravery that was once in her body had dissipated like smoke. Harry was quick to pick it up for her, eyebrows furrowed and a small frown on his lips. She flinched when he handed it back to her, searching all over his face for any signs that he was going to drain her of all of her blood in this very bookshop. She didn’t grab the book, keeping her hands to her sides. She was worried about interacting with him, every single piece of information she had ever learned or picked up about vampires leaving her mind as she entered a state of pure panic. He took the book, adding it to his collection, realizing she wasn’t going to take it back. She felt like her body was going to shut down with fear, which made perfect sense considering his… blood sucking habit? Anyways, her hands were shaking like she was about to give a speech in front of her lecture hall and an unappetizing sour taste was in her mouth due to her adrenaline kicking in. He seemed to notice all of her fearful actions and could most likely literally smell the fear on her and instead of jumping her like prey, which she was anticipating, he only looked guilty. He looked down to his feet, like he couldn’t bare to look her in the eyes, like he knew he was the reason she was so uncomfortable. This was really weird, or at least she thought so, but what he said next was even weirder. “I didn’t mean t’ scare you, thought you knew about... you know,” He mumbled, flashing his fangs briefly and pulling at her heart strings for reasons that weren’t fear related. She didn’t make any rash decisions, like instantly pulling a sad looking vampire into her arms, but stayed planted to the ground as she eyed him suspiciously. “Seemed so confident walking in, thought someone sent you or somethin’,” He continued, his deep voice rambling on as he continued to look down at his feet, looking ashamed. She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering who he thought would send him a human. “Besides, been looking all over t’ apologize! Went to a couple of fairy alcoves to look for ya-” He began, now looking at her earnestly as she rose an eyebrow. “Fairy alcoves?” She asked, voice sounding much more curious and much less frightened than expected. “Yea… Are ya not a-?” He asked her slowly, looking confused. “I’m… Not a fairy,” She said, voice shaky since she really didn’t think she’d have to ever say that sentence and wondering if things might change once he realized she was a human. To think, she was just getting slightly more comfortable with him and now this new factor arises. Figures. He looked confused and a bit upset, shaking his head in disbelief, “Could’a sworn you were some kind of nymph. Got the sweet smell, ya know,” He mumbled, sounding disappointed. She gave a small huff at the mention of her “smell.” If he was trying to make her feel more comfortable, letting her know he could smell what species she was was not the right route. Odd smelling comment aside, as she looked at him, one of his fangs chewing slightly on his lip, she almost let out a sigh at how this seriously could not be happening right now. “Either way,” He said, perking up a bit, “Owe you an apology, wanna go get lunch?” Her jaw slackened slightly, lips parting as she gave a look of utter confusion. In a moment of fear induced idiocy, she asked a ridiculously stupid question, “Am I gonna be lunch?” It seemed to take him a second to process the question, before he, surprisingly, burst into a fit of giggles. “You’re very funny! Lemme pay for these and then we can go,” He said, turning around and walking towards the ancient lady at the cash register. She watched him leave, noticing he was wearing the same pair of vans as she was. Maybe it was because they had the same taste in shoes or maybe it was because he was charming and she liked the way his nose kept scrunching up while he spoke, but she stupidly decided to follow him to the front of the store. She supposed even if she was vampire lunch, it was sort of deserving at this point, judging by her frequent poor choices and run-ins with odd, mythical creatures. Slowly and cautiously, she walked over to the cash counter and stood beside him. He turned to smile down at her, to which she returned a blank stare and a blink. He turned back, still slightly smiling as he handed over some weird coins to the lady who Y/N was now suspecting to be some sort of witch judging by her long, plaited gray hair and raggy sense of dress. She didn’t bother to ask any questions she didn’t think she wanted any answers to, instead watching as the possible witch bagged the books Harry had picked out. “Wanna get some sandwiches? Or maybe a salad?” He asked a shell shocked Y/N, who was very annoyed, but not really surprised, she was in this situation. At this point, after the fear had partially subsided and only irritation with her current luck remained, she decided to just go with it. “Sandwiches sound nice,” She shrugged, letting out a small sigh as the lady handed Harry the large, paper bag. He gave her a grateful smile, taking the lead and opening the door for Y/N on their way out. She hoped that a vampire with manners enough to hold the door open for her wouldn’t want to kill her. Besides, as she watched Harry carefully hold the bag of books in his arms, she was starting to wonder if he had actually ever killed anyone at all. He had the enthusiasm of a little kid and the way he kept smiling at her were not the characteristics of a murderous beast. She wondered if he even knew she was a human, he should be able to smell that kind of stuff, right? Maybe he was just really shit at being a vampire, which she was beginning to believe, judging by the way he gave everyone he passed on the street a smile. “Y/N? Did ya hear me?” He asked, turning to look at her as she looked up at him blankly. “Sorry, what?” She asked, blinking quickly. He looked slightly concerned, but didn’t say anything about it, “Is here good?” He asked, repeating what he had asked her earlier with a kind patience that was very uncharacteristic of a vampire. She looked up at the small cafe he had brought her to, eyes looking for any red flags that might mean it’s a vampire feasting spot. She saw none, not if tired looking college students didn’t count, at least. “Sure,” She agreed, going to open the door for him this time, since his hands were full and she was trying to do everything in her power to make him like her enough to not kill her. He chose the table, since she was currently distracted by the situation of her being near a vampire for an extended period of time. It was silent as they sat down, Y/N absentmindedly sitting across from him in the booth as he set his books down in the seat beside him. He placed his elbows on the table, looking at her with a curious expression. “I’m not going to drink from you. I don’t do it like that,” He said, almost sounding slightly offended. She was only half listening when he began to speak, but this really caught her attention. She looked up at him, wide-eyed. “How do you do it, then?” She asked, feeling rather ballsy since he did technically say he wouldn’t drink from her. He gave a small smirk, which made her a bit uncomfortable, but he carried on anyways. “It’s a consensual thing, usually people come ‘round, you know, asking,” He said, reaching for the small menu on the table that held the lunch specials. She gave him a curious look, “Asking?” She repeated. “Yea, people always wanna give it a try. It can be fun,” He said, looking proud. A small shudder ran through her at the mention of that, “Not for me,” She remarked. He smiled wide, “I can tell,” It was quiet for a few seconds, in which she just sort of stared at him curiously. “Should we go for a pick two?” He asked, eyebrows scrunched together as he perused the food options. “I-uh, what is that?” She asked, shocked from the subject change and still not feeling completely comfortable around him. She was trying to act like he was a normal guy from her college, but it was hard when every time he spoke she could see his two pointed teeth and how she was pretty sure his lips were tinted pink from blood. “Get a side and a sandwich. I love it here, they’ve got garlic soup!” He exclaimed with excitement, turning the menu around so she could see it. She stared at him in disbelief, “Garlic soup?” She asked him slowly. He nodded, an excited smile revealing his teeth once more. She sighed, shaking her head lightly at him as a small smile appeared on her lips, “You’re the oddest vampire I’ve ever met,” “Have you met many vampires?” He asked curiously, sliding the menu over to her side of the table. She glanced down at it, scouring the many options they provided. “Just you,” She answered. “I won't take any offense, then,” He muttered, making a small laugh brush past her lips. He looked very proud with himself after making her laugh, considering the whole time he had been with her she looked mortified or confused. Y/N, on the other hand, was very confused and slightly concerned that she was starting to get comfortable around him. She didn’t have too much time to think about it, though, because Harry jumped into a story. “Call me odd, haven’t met Niall. He always keeps his house so cold, like some sort of morgue,” He shook his head, as though he was disappointed. She stared at him, “Seems like normal vampire behavior,” Harry shook his head, “You’d think that! We’re already cold, don't’ wanna be more cold. My favorite thing is a good throw blanket, never know when you’re gonna get too chilly,” He remarked, saying it like it was something she was going to need to remember. She nodded along with his words, feeling a mix of confusion and amusement at what he was saying. “I’ll keep that in mind,” She remarked, hearing him chuckle. “What about you? Do you like throw blankets?” He asked, sounding genuinely curious. It was at this point in time she realized that Harry probably didn’t converse with humans very much and that she was slowly becoming less afraid of him, which was likely a dumb move on her part. “More of a heated blanket kinda girl,” She told him, watching as he nodded his head and hummed. He looked like he was going to say something else, presumably about blankets since that’s what vampires seemed to talk about, but a sweet looking waitress made her way over to their table. “Hey, Harry!” She said brightly, before glancing to Y/N and also throwing her a kind smile. Y/N smiled back, albeit a bit forcefully. “What can I get you two today?” Harry looked to Y/N first, “Uh, just a turkey and swiss with some macaroni, please,” The girl, it said Ava on her name tag, nodded, “And to drink?” “Lemonade,” Y/N said easily. Ava nodded, smiling at her yet again before looking to Harry. “Same as usual, H?” She asked, causing Y/N to furrow her eyebrows at the nickname. He seemed like a normal guy, but did this girl not know she was speaking to an actual vampire right now? Was she a vampire? Or was Y/N the weird one? She was starting to wonder if she should just accept this vampy shit and move on, but a societal rule clearly says that vampires aren’t normal or to be trusted. She seemed to have missed the tail end of the conversation, since she was worrying far too much to listen and by the time she looked up, Ava was gone and Harry was speaking again. “That’s Liam’s feeder. Super sweet girl. He met her here, actually!” He told her, smiling at the memory. “Feeder?” Y/N asked, disregarding the other information and going straight for the vocab word. Harry nodded, “She lets him drink from her. I think he’s falling for her though, if I’m being honest,” He said casually, glancing over to Ava who was getting their drinks. “Can that… Can he like a human like that?” Y/N asked, giving him a curious glance. Harry gave a small laugh, “She’s a nymph, silly,” He told her as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “A nymph?” Y/N asked, jaw slackened with disbelief. “You’re a naive little thing, aren’t ya?” He asked, looking at her with interest. “I resent that!” She defended immediately, frowning at him. “Can’t even tell a nymph when you see one? Don’t even know the world around ya,” He shook his head, a small smirk on his lips. She rolled her eyes, “If you could cut me a bit of slack. I’m sitting with someone who could very well kill me right now!” She told him, feeling something in her break. Her heart nearly stopped after she said it, praying to any Gods that existed that it didn’t cross some sort of vampiric line. “Is he scaring you?” Ava’s soft voice broke through the anxious fog that was now collecting in her mind. “He’s harmless, by the way,” Ava added, earning a resentful huff from Harry. “Um, I’m fine, thanks,” Y/N said, feeling very overwhelmed by everything that was happening around her. Ava nodded, not looking too convinced as she set down their drinks, not forgetting to throw Harry a glare before she left the table. Harry looked to Y/N, obviously noticing the fear in her eyes. “You can relax,” He said, sounding genuine, sounding so genuine she felt some of her very tense muscles relax. “I don’t bite,” He added, unable to contain his smile. She blinked slowly at him, scowling in an unimpressed manner. “How can I make you not scared of me?” He asked, in a tone so sweet it made her want to awe out loud. She shrugged, “Not sure, really,” He frowned slightly, before his eyes lit up like he remembered something. “I bought you that book you were holding, the one about werewolves!” He said proudly, reaching into the paper bag and pulling out the same book she had dropped upon recognizing him. “You bought the book?” She asked, watching as he slid it over to her side of the table. “Thought it was a nice gesture, you know, since you thought I was gonna eat you,” He reasoned. She bit her lip to contain her smile, the realization finally donning upon her that this fanged being was just as stupid as any other boy she’d encountered. Her fingers ran over the indented title in the language she still couldn’t understand, although apparently it was about werewolves. “Harry, this is really sweet and I don’t think you’re gonna eat me anymore, but…” She trailed off, her smile on her lips as she gave a small chuckle. “What?” He asked, looking confused. “I don’t even know what language this is,” She told him, opening the book to a random page. He huffed, sounding annoyed as she let out a small giggle. “You don’t know Arabic?” He asked, sounding shocked. “You do?” She asked, matching his tone. He narrowed his eyes at her, “It’s a very important language. I don’t know how you’ve gotten around so far without using it!” She gave him an amused smirk, “You really should get out more,” She suggested. He frowned at her, eyebrows furrowed together with confusion and slight irritation. “Well, if you can’t even read it-” He said, sounding disappointed as he reached across the table to grab the leatherbound book in his pale fingers. She scrunched her nose up, reactively reaching for the book back, her warm fingers briefly meeting his chilled ones. She ignored the feeling, since she didn’t wanna think too hard on the fact he had no warm blood running through him. He gave her a look of confusion as she slid the book into her bookbag, “I’m gonna keep it,” She said firmly. He rose his eyebrows slightly, “Gonna learn Arabic?” He asked. She chuckled, shaking her head, “God, no. It’s a symbol of you making a peace offering to not kill me,” He looked unimpressed, “I wasn’t going to kill you in the first place,” “Well, this book solidifies it. Which I appreciate, by the way,” She added on, her fingers still protectively placed on the rough cover as it sat at the top of her bag. He stared at her for a moment, his fanged tooth running over his bottom lip as he looked like he was considering her features. She stared back, a small nervousness in her mind at the sight of his alarming fang. “You’re a bit odd,” He decided, still concentrating on her face. She smiled, a shrug on her shoulders, “You sure are one to talk,” She said, gesturing to his exposed sharpened tooth. When he smiled brightly and let out a very un-manly giggle,Y/N realized she didn’t think it would be too bad to become acquainted with the fluffy haired vampire. Or, as she was starting to think of him as, fluffy haired Harry.

It had been a few weeks since her lunch with Harry and since then she had been seeing much more of the brown haired boy than expected. He had an interesting habit of popping up in places she frequented, such as the coffee shop she went to in between classes, her favorite organic grocery store and even the local library where she did most of her studying. Each occasion had been a surprise, but every time it happened, she became less and less shocked and disturbed by his sudden presence in her favorite spots. She considered it was because she had never noticed him before, but as he continued to pop up in places, she began to wonder if it was something else. The first time, she had been startled to no end, actually spilling her coffee all over herself when she heard his cheery voice. It had been right after her English literature class, she had decided to stop for an iced coffee, just like she usually did. She went to her favorite secluded corner, curling up in the booth, back to the wall and legs across the seat, a book in one hand and her coffee in the other. This reading was for school, but she found herself enjoying the gothic writing of Dorian Gray. Rather, she was enjoying it until she heard someone call out her name. At that point, she had jumped so violently and her muscles had tensed so suddenly, not only did the lid of her coffee pop right off, but all of the cup’s contents spilled directly onto her shirt. “Oh, bloody- I didn’t mean to-” The panicked British accent could only belong to one person and when she looked up, eyebrows furrowed in slight anger, her thoughts were confirmed when she saw Harry looking rather cozy in a hoodie and some sweats. “Hey, Harry,” She sighed, a shiver wracking through her body as her skin processed just how cold the iced coffee actually was. She was pretty sure there was an ice cube in her bra, but that wasn’t something she was worried about right now as Harry had since begun to ramble. “I- I had just- I was walking by, saw you through the window, had to stop by! I mean, I may have smelled you first, a couple of blocks down, but- Anyways, I just had to say hi. I really didn’t mean to-” There were several concerning aspects that came with this shakey admittance. The “smelled” her part was top of the list, but she really didn’t have time to worry about it since an ice cube was directly against her nipple and she had a very panicked vampire standing in front of her. “I-It’s fine,” She shuddered, swallowing hard as the ice turned from a cold sensation to a burning one. “I’ll buy you another coffee!” He suggested, already reaching for his wallet from the confines of his sweatpants pockets. “Don’t worry about it,” She said, beginning to climb out of the booth. “Oh, don’t leave! I wanted to talk to you-” This admission was sweet, yet slightly concerning since she didn’t know what he wanted to talk about, but yet again, the ice directly against her nipple was more concerning at the moment. “I’m not leaving. I have ice in my bra.” She said shortly, feeling the ice melt and the freezing liquid drip down her sternum. He winced at this, probably imagining the feeling, and then began to do something unexpected. He reached above his head, reaching for the back collar of his hoodie as he pulled it off smoothly. She slightly furrowed her brows, looking around to see if anyone else was unnoticing him undressing in front of her. “Here- Take this,” He said, offering her the burgundy colored sweatshirt. She didn’t even argue, like she probably should have, as she took the hoodie wordlessly and rushed off to the bathroom. She didn’t even bother to get into a stall, ripping off her coffee drenched shirt as she made her way into a small stall in the corner. Once inside, she made quick work to fish the ice cube out of her bra, only to realize that the whole bra was soaked in cold coffee. With a sigh, she ripped that off too, shivering slightly in the air conditioned bathroom. She made quick work of putting the sweatshirt over her bare torso, only processing it was Harry’s until the scent of cologne filled her nostrils. She gave a small sniff, which was a bit weird, but she couldn’t help herself. It was a bit of a sweet smell, like vanilla or something, but with a hint of manliness, something she couldn’t put her finger on. She really hadn’t spent a lot of time analyzing mens cologne, however after being engulfed by it, she wished she had. It was interesting, really, that he smelled like cologne and not… metal? What were vampires supposed to smell like? Either way, she decided he smelled rather nice and his hoodie was so much warmer than her soaking wet clothes, even though he had no body heat. She tried to fold her bra up into her shirt as inconspicuous as possible, before she made her way back out to the dining area. When she returned to her table, she found a new iced coffee sitting on the wood, along with Harry sitting across from her spot with a straw between his lips and an orange colored drink in his hands. She made her way back to her seat, stuffing her crumpled and still damp shirt into her book bag as she slid into the booth. “I got you a normal iced latte. If that’s not what you ordered, then-” He said, words rushed as his eyes widened when he saw she was back. It was odd really, she remembered when she used to be anxious around him. She sighed, smiling slightly, “It’s great, thanks,” She picked up the cold coffee, just to prove her point and brought the straw to her lips. “Sorry about… Well…” He said, gesturing to the stained t-shirt she had sitting atop her book bag. She shrugged, straw still between her teeth, “S’fine. Your hoodies’ soft,” He smiled at this, almost proudly, as his eyes fell to look at the maroon hoodie that was now adorned on her body. “Got it ages ago. It’s older than you, I bet,” He said casually, causing her to raise an eyebrow. “How… Old is it?” She asked, her voice tentative like she didn’t really want to know the answer. She was curious, since it was in her nature, but having conversations with someone centuries old wasn’t something she was used to. “Got it in the 80s!” He exclaimed, taking another sip of whatever smoothie he had bought. She hummed with interest, “Love the 80s,” She remarked, chewing on her straw as she sipped her coffee. He nodded, clearly agreeing with her statement, “London had the best clothing store then, bit niche. Shut down a while ago, though,” He frowned slightly at the memory, looking down at his drink. “Sorry about that,” She muttered, eyes trailing over his fluffy hair, which was becoming a point of fascination for her. He always had it pushed up, the curls residing at the top of his head. However, he had little fluffy bits around his ears and at the back of his neck that always drew her attention. As if he had known she was thinking about, which he very well could have since she knew next to nothing about how vampires worked, his long fingers ran through the curly strands above his forehead. She tore her eyes away, just in case he could read her mind or something, and brought her attention back to her coffee. “What’d you wanna talk to me about?” She asked, after a couple of moments of silence after she remembered a certain panicked remark he made after the coffee spilling incident. His eyes widened slightly, the straw slipping from his mouth as he set his smoothie down on the table. “Wanted to know… How your classes were going,” He said, speaking faster at the end of the sentence like he’d just thought of it, which was what she was going for. She nodded, a small smirk on her lips as she answered, “They’re going good,” He looked pleased with this information, nodding seriously. “How’s… whatever you do going?” She asked, realizing she had no idea what he did with his free time. He smiled, looking happy that she had asked, “Really well! Haven’t been as many fights lately and bite numbers are down!” He exclaimed happily, which she could agree she was happy with. She gasped slightly, “That sounds great! Do you control that?” She asked, interested. She tried not to think too much on the fact that he was a vampire, even though it was really all she could think about, but she did restrain from asking too many questions in the fear of getting answers she didn’t want. He nodded, sipping from his drink again with puckered lips, “Gotta control the population, most of them know not to be dicks, but,” He gave a shrug. She nodded, intrigue written all over her expressions, “Are there a lot of you? You know…” She said, gesturing to her teeth instead of saying “vampires” aloud. He giggled, “A good number of us,” He remarked, before flashing her his fangs playfully. She rolled her eyes, “Feels weird to call you a… you know… You’re not very threatening,” She remarked, swirling her straw around her coffee. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes, the small grin still on his lips contradicting himself, “Glad to hear it,” There was silence after that, pretty comfortable silence if you asked her. They sipped from their drinks, smiled at each other a few times, and made some random comments, but really that was the end of that encounter once Y/N had to go to her next class. She had bid him goodbye, not even thinking to grab his number, and wondered when she’d see him next, especially since she had left still wearing his hoodie. She had a feeling he’d manage a way to find her if he really wanted it back. She was sure he could somehow detect her with his weird vampire senses. Turns out, she was right about that. She was in her local grocery store, the one just blocks away from her apartment, looking to restock the fridge for the week. It was a mere three or so days since she’d seen him last, the memory still occasionally playing in her mind whenever she was performing mundane life tasks. She didn’t think she thought about him that much, even though every time she saw boys with curly hair or smoothies he crossed her mind, but her roommate brought it to her attention that she was a lot more spacey as of late. She really didn’t believe her or notice her inability to drift off into daydreams about fanged teeth and bubblegum lips, but she started to think she may have a bit of a problem when she absentmindedly slipped on his hoodie before heading out. She hadn’t even realized it until she’d grabbed her basket, having glanced down at her arm to see the maroon colored sleeve covering it, but at that point, it was too late. She’d just sighed, realizing for the one hundredth time that Emma was right when it came to her being ditzy lately, and carried on through the shop. She was trying to find the best fruits for smoothies, you can guess why she’d had that inspired thought, when she heard her name being yelled from a little bit away. She had turned around, already recognizing the deep, British voice, a smirk on her lips as she saw him jogging, pushing his cart and all, towards her. She momentarily forgot about the sweatshirt, since she’d been wearing it a lot recently for no particular reason, and because she was distracted by a very dapper looking Harry who was dressed in some printed pants. She smiled at his cute little wave as he approached her and she took that small amount of time to observe his outfit. He had on brown, plaid pants that fit him well, even though she’d only ever seen him in loose fitting track pants, along with an oversized and multicolored sweater. He had an interesting sense of dress, like someone who really didn’t know what was trendy, but he wore it well. “Like your pants,” She complimented, almost as soon as he reached her side. He smiled brightly, even wider than when he greeted her initially. “Thank you! Love the sweatshirt,” He said, gesturing to the much too large for her sweatshirt (of his, may she add) that she was donning. She cursed herself mentally for not only forgetting she was wearing his clothing and for bringing up the subject of clothes. “Laundry day,” She lied, mumbling slightly out of embarrassment. It was certainly not laundry day, actually the opposite since she did her laundry yesterday, but she was just pulled to the hoodie today for some reason. It was as if her brain knew she was going to be seeing him and it wanted to make it extra humiliating for her, like dropping a book and then coffee all over herself wasn’t enough. He really didn’t seem to mind, even looked a bit pleased with it, and if he was weirded out, he said and showed nothing. “Oh! We buy the same bread,” He said, sounding excited as his eyes flitted between his cart and her basket. She looked down as well, seeing the organic whole grain shit that Emma loved, so she bought it for her and secretly hoarded white bread in the back of the cabinet for herself. She was going to tell Harry this, thought it was a sort of funny anecdote, but he looked genuinely happy that they had the same bread, so she kept it to herself. She just smiled, unable to hide it since he really was so, so cute. “Can I do the rest of my shopping with you? Would you mind?” He asked, kind smile still on his lips like always. She nodded almost immediately, “You can tell me which fruits are best for smoothies,” She suggested. He pounced on that offer immediately, nearly knocking her over as he reached for peaches, raspberries, and all sorts of sweet fruits that really fit with his whole… thing going on. She had no idea what that “thing” is exactly, but she was getting lost in it alarmingly quickly and almost didn’t hear him speaking to her because her eyes were focused on a rampant curl that was swaying across his forehead invitingly. “Always get almond milk with it, too,” He told her, very seriously, as he bagged up her fruit delicately. She nodded, blinking rapidly as she forced her eyes to focus on his face and not that damned curl. He didn’t seem to notice her momentary distraction since he was very concerned with picking between two peaches. “One on the right looks fresher,” She remarked, turning her attention to the two fruits as well. He hummed, ultimately agreeing with her and placing the right one in the bag and tying it up. He placed them in her basket with triumph, giving her a proud smile, which she returned with a chuckle. “Thanks, never seen someone take fruit so seriously,” She told him, leading him to the next aisle as he followed without question. “After 500 years, you realize fruit is very important part of-” She stopped in her tracks, nearly tripping over her own feet as her jaw dropped. He had continued on, only stopping when he noticed she had. She stared at him in shock, “500 years?” She whisper-shouted, her throat tightening in that way it does when she’s trying not to scream. He smirked, “Too old for you?” Y/N only frowned at him, “Is that normal for a vampire?” Harry shrugged, “Liam just had his 1,500th,” Y/N scoffed in disbelief, “Jesus,” He only looked at her with an amused smirk, “How old are you, then?” She narrowed her eyes at him with annoyance, walking beside him anyways. “Too young for you,” She decided on, watching as he rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s too young for me,” He retorted, before excitedly turning into the snack cookie aisle and promising to show her the best crispy chocolate chip cookies he’d ever had. There were no mentions of his centuries old age after that, only Harry encouraging her to buy loads of snacks she didn’t need. He made her shopping trip exponentially more fun and on her trips after that, she found herself wishing he was there, something she found herself thinking a lot. She loved thinking about him, really, he was a cool guy, but her midterms were fast approaching and her professors were throwing work at her left and right. She had several papers to write, a few minor assignments, and one huge research paper for her psychology class. She was usually really good with school work, getting ahead occasionally and not procrastinating to a point where she felt like she was buried. However, recently, she’d been daydreaming a bit too much and telling Emma vague details about a guy she kept seeing around. He had a habit of creeping into her brain, popping his fluffy head in with a kind smile and distracting her from her homework. She was so distracted, she knew she needed to go to a quiet environment so she could fully engulf herself in her work. She had gone to the library, wearing her own sweatshirt this time, and snuggled up in her favorite nook. It wasn’t really a place for people to sit, but it was in an odd section of the library that no one ever wandered into. She’d found it her first year of college, meandering through the corridors to see what she could see. When she saw it was usually uninhabited, she made a habit of sitting against the bookshelves. It had that smell she associated with antiques, a musky sort of scent that made her smile, even though it could have been mold or something. Today was no different when it came to her seating arrangement, with her back pressed against the spines of the books, she sat spread out on the floor. She had her materials scattered around her, a laptop open to her essay document, dozens of printed papers full of research, and her notebook of scribbled thoughts and outlines. She had been working for an hour or so, already having finished her first iced coffee and written a couple of pages of her research paper. She was feeling really proud of herself, not thinking about non-human species even once throughout the hour, until she heard familiar clumsy footsteps. She didn’t process it at first, only sighed slightly as the noise brought her out of a pretty good flow she had going on, but she only furrowed her brow and stared harder at the laptop screen. It wasn’t until she heard a whispered greeting, that made her jump, did she realize her distraction was here. She widened her eyes, ceasing her typing as she looked at him. He was holding a book, one that was all ancient and weathered, wearing some tight jeans and a cozy looking knitted sweater. “Oh, hey, Harry,” She said, giving him a small smile as he instantly sat next to her. She almost groaned, really needing to get this work done and knowing she’d be incapable when he was sitting right next to her, smiling all sweet with that oversized yellow sweater. “Homework?” He asked with interest, leaning close to her as he glanced at her computer screen. She would have turned it away from him, not wanting him to see her unrevised writing, but she was way too stressed to even think of it. “Midterm paper,” She clarified, leaning her head back against the bookshelf to allow him to read what she had on the screen. “Seems interesting,” He remarked, sounding genuine as he tilted his head at the screen. “Could be better,” She sighed, looking to her side as she resisted the urge to cross her arms and let out a bratty huff. She felt his eyes on her, could imagine how wide and curious they looked, “Seem stressed, love,” He told her. She felt a small blush creep onto her cheeks, not only for him being able to tell she was seconds away from imploding, and the term of endearment. “Very,” She chuckled, releasing a sigh as she turned to look at him. His eyes ran over her face, noting the bags under her eyes and her frizzy, tied up hair. “You should take a break. It won’t do you any good if you work while you’re tired,” He reasoned, giving her a serious look. She bit her lip as she thought on it. He was 500 years old, so she suspected he knew what he was talking about. She was feeling pretty drained, her coffee not having made up for her recent lack of sleep. She turned to glance over what she had written, to see if her tiredness had actually affected her work like Harry thought it did, it was pretty shit writing. She only sighed deeply, wanting to bang her head repeatedly against a hard surface as she realized she’d have to delete about a page of worthless writing. “Let’s get you some food,” Harry decided, already standing as she looked up at him with scrunched up eyebrows. “Where are you gonna get food?” She asked, firmly planted on the ground with no plans of moving. She closed her laptop shut, placing it on the floor next to her as she stretched out her legs in front of her. “They’ve got a cafe downstairs,” He told her, watching as she nodded absentmindedly. “What do you like? Chips, cookies?” He asked, listing off the most likely foods to be in the cafe area. “Just some chips, some water too, probably,” She said, adding water as an afterthought when she realized she was probably dehydrated. She reached into her bag, pulling out some cash, but once she turned to hand it to him, he was gone. She rolled her eyes, not having even heard him leave. With yet another sigh, she pushed her back further against the bookcase and pulled her phone out of the front pocket of her hoodie. She had a couple of texts from Emma, one telling her good luck with the studying and another telling her she saved her some dinner. Y/N smiled at this, typing out a thank you. Emma really didn’t luck out when it came to roommates, but she handled Y/N gracefully. She was a medical major, so you could imagine how horrified she was at Y/N’s lack of reasoning abilities and accident prone life. Emma tried her best to stray Y/N away from entering abandoned warehouses and suspicious neighborhoods, but as can be seen with Harry’s house incident, Y/N never listened. Although she was terrified with Y/N’s lack of care for her safety, they still made a great match. They’d quiz each other on their very different classes (Emma’s human anatomy and Y/N’s American literature), make each other dinners that catered to their food needs (Emma was a vegetarian, so Y/N would make her meat free dinners whenever she was in charge of meal time) and they were always open to talking about various relationship troubles. Emma currently had a crush on a girl from her biochemistry class and Y/N was always there to offer advice and support when needed. Y/N herself had even dropped a few hints that she was interested in someone, a certain fluffy haired boy who was actually walking towards her at the moment. She looked up, slipping her phone back into her pocket once she saw Harry approaching her with a rather large bag in his hands. She rose an eyebrow, watching as he sat back down next to her and set the bag down in between them. “Ok,” He began, not even looking at her as he started to reach into the bag. She watched him with confusion as he pulled out two wrapped sandwiches. “They had these sandwiches and they look so good! I remembered you liked turkey, but I got some ham too, just in case,” He exclaimed, holding them both up victoriously. He set them aside, reaching back into the bag and pulling out various small bags of chips. “Wasn’t sure what your favorite was, got ‘em all,” He muttered, setting those aside with the sandwiches and diving back in for even more food. Y/N’s eyes widened, looking between the already large collection of food and the bag which was still being emptied. “Harry…” She said, a bit shocked as he pulled out some bottles of lemonade and two brownies. He looked up at her with wide, green eyes, two bottles of lemonade in one hand and two brownies in the other, “Yea?” Y/N couldn’t help but smile, seeing the genuine kindness in his eyes that always made her heart feel all mushy and weird. She shook her head, chuckling lightly, “Nothing, thanks,” She said softly. He smiled wide back, only handing her a lemonade and brownie as response, before turning to grab the sandwiches and chips. She watched him fondly, her heart beating irregularly in her chest. She wondered if he could hear it, if he knew how she felt right now, which only made her heart beat a bit faster. Almost as if he had heard her think this, which was possible since she didn’t know the limits to his vampiric abilities, “Can hear your heart beating so fast, haven’t eaten in a while have you?” He asked with concern, passing her the turkey sandwich. She felt a blush rise up to her cheeks, looking down at her sandwich instead of up at him. “Gotta eat, love,” He remarked, throwing yet another pet name her way which only made her cheeks heat up more. She mumbled something incoherent in response, focusing on opening up her sandwich instead. He didn’t say anything further, only the sounds of plastic ripping filling the air, which made room for lots of curious thoughts to invade Y/N’s head. She nibbled on her sandwich, wondering what else Harry could hear of her organs. Could he hear her blood rushing through her veins? What about her lungs expanding? Did that even make a noise? She needed to ask Emma about a lot of this, maybe even read her notes, she knew absolutely nothing about anatomy. As she chewed thoughtfully on some chips, she let her curiosity get the best of her, “Hey, Harry,” She said, sounding pensive. She looked to him, seeing that he was taking a sip from his lemonade. “Hm?” He asked, looking at her with a welcoming smile. “What else… Can you hear?” She asked lamely, watching as he gave her a confused head tilt. She jumped into an explanation, “You said you could hear my heartbeat… Can you hear anything else?” She asked tentatively, feeling like she was invading his personal life by asking. He shrugged, “Can hear your heartbeat, yeah. Can’t hear so much as I can smell,” He said casually, which only made her more interested. “Smell?” She asked, popping a chip into her mouth as he chewed some of his sandwich. He nodded, swallowing, “Once I know someone’s scent, can smell ‘em miles away. You, for example, have this sweet smell, really distinctive,” He informed her, waving a chip around in the air since he was notorious for talking with his hands. She blinked repeatedly at the mention of her “smell,” something he’d said before, but she wasn’t really used to. “Thanks?” She said, not sure if her smelling sweet was an odd compliment of sorts. He giggled in response, “I think it’s your blood type, always had a knack for A,” She tried not to look too shocked at his blatant mention of blood consumption, which she knew was something she’d have to get used to. “Pretty sure I’m type O,” She said, peeling away some of the crust from her sandwich. He furrowed his eyebrows at this information, “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” She smiled, rolling her eyes, “I’d say the same for you. I asked for chips and a water and got a feast,” She gestured to the layout of food between them, which Harry looked to sheepishly. “Being chivalrous,” He muttered. She only laughed more, “Makes sense, you were around when it was invented,” He gasped, playfully slapping at her thigh in false admonishment, “I’ll have you know I missed that mark by 300 years,” He told her proudly. She snorted, too busy laughing to even be embarrassed. “Missed when you were scared of me, weren’t mean to me then,” He mumbled, rolling his eyes as she burst into giggles. “You’re such a baby, for a vampire,” She choked out in between laughs. He only gave her an annoyed glance, before throwing the chip he was holding at her in response. She had gasped, grabbing at her disregarded crust and tossing it his way as a retort. That’s how they ended up having an impromptu food fight in the reclusive area of the library, laughing their asses off, her homework laying forgotten on the floor as they threw chips and playful insults about. She hadn’t gotten much work done that day, but she really didn’t mind it when she considered what she got in return. Harry had even walked home with her, carrying her book bag for her, even though she argued for him not to. They’d chatted about random things about her life that seemed incredibly dull when she spoke of them aloud. Things such as her book collection, the classes she was taking, the movies she liked to watch, her breaking and entering habit, and her favorite desserts. She felt dumb talking about herself, when she had a living piece of history next to her, but Harry seemed incredibly interested in all she had to say. If he was faking it, she thought he was doing one hell of a job, and if he was actually serious, her heart soared at the thought. She tried not to think of him as a vampire and it was becoming easier and easier, although she never thought it would. His teeth were always prominent, glinting in the sunlight if the rays hit him just right. She barely remembered the time she was scared of them, now only examining them with interest whenever she had the chance. He even let her in on some of his life, like how him and his friends lead the vampire clan in the area. She’d heard of Liam and Niall before, but that night she received information on Louis, Harry’s best friend and the first vampire he ever met. He didn’t expand on a story, only pointing out the fun fact and moving on. She made a mental note to ask him about it some day, but for then, only listening closely as he rambled on about some biting that had occurred days previous. They’d exchanged numbers that day, after Y/N gave a jab about him understanding technology. He’d typed his name in, adding the vampire emoji in after it, which only made her snort. It was hard to believe, or even remember, her fear she felt for him when they first met. This fluffy haired boy who giggled at his own jokes and bought excess food, just because he thought she hadn’t eaten. Besides, now, when she looked at him, all she felt was a fuzzy feeling in her heart and belly that definitely didn’t have anything to do with terror. Since that day, she found they’d gotten a lot closer, not only because of their bonding, but because of the number exchange. He texted her frequently, having texted her his whole walk home, which she found rather cute. She loved having a texting buddy, someone she could flirt with a bit and share banter with. She’d text with Emma whenever she wasn’t home, but when she had Emma right next to her, she never had reason to be typing away on her phone. So, one night when she’s been typing excessively while lounging on the couch, Emma finds herself getting suspicious. She’d noticed it a couple of days back, the way Y/N would check her phone frequently and smile, not so subtly, whenever it buzzed. She didn’t really think anything of it at first, until she caught Y/N giggling at her phone screen, which was an incredibly un-Y/N thing to do. After noticing this phone trend, she started to piece some things together. Her roommate had been way ditzier than normal, daydreaming during conversations and while she was cooking. After some inferring, Emma came to the conclusion that Y/N was a lot more serious about the brown haired boy she’d mentioned before. The thing about the brown haired boy, was that all Emma knew about him was that he had brown, curly hair that Y/N mentioned once dreamily, a habit of giggling at his own jokes, was very sweet to Y/N, and the fact that her friend was head over heels for him. In Emma’s mind, this wasn’t nearly enough information to go off of for her best friend’s new beau. So, she set off that night to find out more about this mysterious brown haired boy. Y/N, who was oblivious to this whole plan, sat comfortably beside Emma, a blanket over their legs as they watched a new documentary. Y/N had her phone out, like she usually did as of late, and was trying to suppress a smile from Harry’s latest text. Did you know that when I went to France in 1864 they taught me how to make the best macaroons? He was always throwing around facts like this, such as when he saved the British king from a vampire infestation and to this day is allowed stay at Buckingham palace. I didn’t know that, you’ll have to make me some sometime. She’d responded quickly, having already been texting him before he sprouted this information on her. She watched as the typing bubble appeared, then went away, then appeared again. This happened a lot, or so she noticed, and she liked to think it was because he was nervous about speaking to her, but she decided that she was just her projecting her feelings into him. With a small sigh, she turned her phone screen black and placed it in her lap, waiting for the next buzz. In the meantime, she focused her attention on the environmental documentary Emma had put on. She was just getting into the story about the mama and baby lemur, when Emma started to speak. “Haven’t heard about fluffy haired boy in awhile,” She remarked casually, not even looking up from her phone. Y/N smirked at the mention of him, “Still fluffy haired as ever,” Emma let out a small huff of laughter, before settling into silence for a few moments. She started to speak again though, right after Y/N had redirected her attention to the tv. “Has he asked you out yet?” She inquired, turning to look at Y/N this time. Y/N swallowed, heart rate increasing at just the thought of Harry thinking of her in that way, “Uh, no. Think we’re just friends,” She muttered. Emma frowned, her eyebrows scrunching up a bit, “No guy I’ve ever known texts a girl that much if he isn’t interested,” She observed. Y/N shrugged, “He’s different,” Emma immediately groaned in response, “You’re so whipped,” Y/N gasped, “I am not!” She yelled defensively. Emma only looked at her, eyebrow raised in an unamused manner. Y/N settled down, looking sheepish, “Maybe I’m… a bit whipped,” She admitted quietly. Emma nodded, “More than a bit. Caught you mumbling in your sleep a couple of nights ago. Asking for a bite or something, you kinky-“ “Shut up!” Y/N squeaked, wincing at the mention of her dream, which she could clearly recall. Emma only laughed, “Not judging,” She said, putting her hands up. Y/N pouted slightly, blushing beet red as she looked anywhere but at Emma. “He’s just…” Y/N said, trailing off as she tried to think of a word that could even describe Harry, let alone how she feels about him. “Different?” Emma offered up, meeting Y/N’s gaze with a small smile. Y/N smirked, biting her lip to keep from giggling. Emma only laughed, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, pulling her in for a side hug. Y/N snuggled into her side, resting her head on her shoulder as she turned her attention back to the tv. Talking to Emma about him for just that short amount of time made her feel so much better. It was the best feeling being able to let out all of that bottled up fondness she had towards him, even if just for a moment. She needed to talk to her more about him, open up some, maybe even let her in on the whole truth. However, she couldn’t imagine Emma would be as adaptable as Y/N had been. She could see Emma staying in the fear stage for much longer than Y/N’s one week. She pushed the thoughts aside anyways, being reeled back into the documentary at the words “baby iguanas.” Her phone long forgotten and the sound of Emma’s heartbeat filling her ears, Y/N’s eyelids began to drop. The sound of the narrator’s voice almost lulled her to sleep, until a knock sounded on the door. Both Emma and Y/N sat up, since they never received visitors, especially not late at night. They looked to each other, faces mirroring a look of confusion that consisted of furrowed eyebrows and questioning eyes. They both stood, Y/N going for the door as Emma followed closely behind, phone in hand. They didn’t live in a bad area, but they were two college girls living in an apartment and any unexpected visitors after 9 pm is enough to arouse suspicion. Y/N was ready to signal for Emma to call the cops, expecting some weirdo or drunk to be slumped outside of their door, but when she opened it, rather cautiously, she was met with a very different sight. It was Harry. He was wearing his usual attire, some sweatpants along with a sweatshirt. This time, his curly hair was pushed back by a red bandanna, that she’d never seen before. He was looking down at his phone in one hand, his other hand holding a plastic bag with hearts on it that held… “Macaroons?” She asked, voice excited as she reached for the designed bag. Harry jumped, looking up from his phone, only to smile as he gave her the baggie. “Had some made, thought I’d drop ‘em by,” He mumbled, melting a bit under her excited expression. “Like the hearts,” She complimented, examining the pink hearts on the plastic bag. He looked down at his feet, which was in her top ten cutest things she’d ever seen anyone do, “Had ‘em around, thought you’d like them,” She almost awed aloud right there, wanting to hug him tightly, but after she ate some macaroons. She would’ve done all of these things, if it wasn’t for Emma. “Y/N? Who’s out there?” A voice called from inside. Harry looked interested, craning his head to try and get a look inside at what he suspected was her roommate. He’d been told about Emma only a few times, mostly off-handedly, like some of her random relationship troubles and her favorite types of juice. Y/N, on the other hand, had been so surprised by Harry she forgot about her worried roommate. “Oh, uh…”  Y/N stuttered, not being able to prevent Emma from opening the door wide and seeing Harry standing there, a smile on his pink lips. He had his lips closed, which was something Y/N noticed and swooned at. He truly was the most considerate vampire. Emma’s jaw dropped, looking at him and then turning to look at Y/N. “You’re fluffy, brown haired boy!” She practically shouted, causing Harry to widen his eyes in surprise. “Emma-“ Y/N said, putting a hand on her friend’s arm to get her to calm down. It didn’t even work a bit. If she freaked out this bad just for “fluffy, brown haired boy” she couldn’t even imagine her reaction to him being the vampire she’d encountered weeks ago. Well, actually, she could kind of imagine it and every scenario that ran across her head was less than pleasant. “Oh my God! Hi, I’m Emma,” She said quickly, extending her hand immediately to Harry, who took it politely, but clearly looked a bit offset. Y/N only watched helplessly as she waited for him to introduce himself and prayed to any God that would listen that Emma wouldn’t remember the vampire named Harry she’d mentioned weeks ago. “I’m Harry,” He said, shaking her hand and smiling kindly. Y/N watched with bated breath, heart beating so fast Harry even glanced at her suspiciously. She didn’t even care though, focusing on Emma’s face as her eyes widened briefly, pulling her hand back casually from her handshake with Harry. “Y/N…” She said slowly, with a tone of interest. “Emma-“ She said, getting cut off exactly as she had when she’d said her name before. “Is this Harry the vampire? The house you broke into?” Emma asked, looking him up and down curiously. “She didn’t break in, the door was unlocked,” Harry added, stepping closer to Y/N as Emma smirked. “Always getting herself into trouble. Least you’re cute,” She shrugged, patting Y/N on the back as she giggled at her friend’s humiliated expression. “She is, isn’t she?” He grabbed Y/N’s wrist, leading himself and Y/N into the apartment. Y/N’s eyes widened, a smile breaking out on her lips that she tried to hide by biting her lower lip. “Was talking about you,” Emma said, bringing a blush to both Harry and Y/N’s cheeks. “These ones are chocolate and hazelnut,” He explained to her, ignoring Emma and picking out a coffee colored macaroon from the decorated baggie and handing it to her. She just looked at him with a slack jaw, hearing Emma’s footsteps behind her as she stared at Harry’s expectant smile. Reluctantly, she took a bite of the macaroon, just to appease him since she knew he wouldn’t be happy until she tried them. Emma, who was now watching them with a small smile was ignored by Harry and ultimately ignored by Y/N as she gasped at the flavor of the macaroon. “Holy shit! These are so good, Harry!” She exclaimed, mouth still full as she took another bite. Harry smiled proudly, fishing out another macaroon for her to try. “Em, you gotta taste these!“ Y/N exclaimed, already extending a macaroon to a willing Emma. Emma happily nibbles on the delicacy while Y/N gave another smile to Harry. “You’re very good, thank you,” She said, earning a wide and adorable smile back. “I’ll make you cupcakes next,” He promised almost immediately which made her heart melt in her chest. “So,” Emma interrupted, mouth full of macaroon, “Are you two vampire friends with benefits or?” Y/N choked in response, giving Emma a sharp glare, “No! Emma-“ Harry, who had a small smile on his face from Y/N’s reaction, informed Emma, “She isn’t my feeder,” He looked to Y/N, eyes always lingering on her features much longer than normal, before turning to face Emma since she was talking. “What?” She had asked, shaking her head lightly. “I don’t feed from her,” He clarified, being met with blank stares from both women that clearly said they weren’t following. “I don’t drink from Y/N. It’s a consensual thing, she’s not my feeder,” He reiterated, watching both of them blink. “You two are weird,” Emma shook her head, watching as Y/N picked up another macaroon. “But her vampire is my vampire so, we’re watching a nature documentary, if you wanna join,” She announced, mouth full of macaroon as Y/N tried not to groan from embarrassment. Harry smiled, immediately prancing over to the couch. Y/N remained still, only watching as Harry took a seat at the end of the couch. He turned to look at her, waving the bag of macaroons in the air as a gesture for her to come over. She swallowed, taking in the scene of the two of them sitting as far apart from each other as possible, but walked over anyways and panicked over where she was gonna sit. Should she sit in the middle? Equal parts away from both as a way to stay neutral? Or, should she cuddle up with Emma like before? As a way to apologize for not disclosing her relationship with Harry? Should she sit near Harry? Just on the basis that she wanted to be near him? While all of these thoughts pounded against her skull, she hadn’t noticed her legs were carrying her to the couch and setting her body right beside Harry. That was that issue solved, she supposed. However, a new issue was the eyes she felt on her that belonged to Emma. She couldn’t tell the emotion behind the stare, whether it was teasing or fondness. Harry, who was either very oblivious or simply didn’t care, only handed Y/N the bag of macaroons and comfortably draped an arm over her shoulders. Y/N, who tensed up immediately at the contact, took the macaroons in her shaky hands and stared straight ahead at the tv. Emma, who had control of the remote, had yet to start the show again, so the room was once more shrouded in silence. Y/N, the bag of macaroons in her lap, her vampire crush’s arm draped over her and who could practically taste the tension in the room, wondered what exactly she’d done previously to deserve this fate. “The iguanas are trying to escape the snakes, really riveting stuff,” Emma remarked in a dull tone, pressing play on the documentary. Y/N huffed, knowing it wasn’t Emma’s choice to watch the documentary, but she couldn’t help but defend herself, “It is actually very interesting,” She muttered, staring at the tv. She heard Harry chuckle beside her, “I’m sure it is, love,” He agreed, causing her to smirk. Emma, who Y/N knew was probably dying to say something about the exchange, remained silent and the only sound was the relaxing voice of the narrator. Y/N, who was already sleepy in the first place, sunk her head back into the couch, eyelids hooded with sleep. “Can put your head on my shoulder,” Harry whispered, gently giving her shoulder a push to gesture that it was alright. Y/N obliged, not even thinking and feeling too comfy and sleepy to care. With one swift movement, she settled her temple against his shoulder, eyes still focused on the tv. “Have you ever been to the Galapagos?” She asked quietly, feeling his fingers trace over the skin of her arms as she relaxed against him. Her fingers went to the sleeve of his sweater, since his arm was laying across his stomach. She played with the soft material, Harry looking down at her with admiration. He hummed out a negative, “Never saw a reason to,” Y/N felt the most calm she had in awhile, momentarily forgetting about her school deadlines and her, most likely, still upset friend on the other side of the couch since she was too busy breathing in the scent of Harry and feeling the odd temperature of his body. He was cool at first, a refreshing chill, but was now warming, possibly due to her own body heat. “Shouldn’t you have gone everywhere? Since you’re a vampire?” Emma asked, sounding curious from the other side of the couch and bringing Y/N from her small dream land of Harry. “Emma..” Y/N scolded lightly, rolling her eyes subtly as she gave Harry’s wrist a squeeze as a form of apology. He shrugged, taking the chance to twist his wrist in a way that meant she was now holding his hand, “That’s a fair point. Some places are just better than others, I guess,” Emma hummed, Y/N not really paying attention to any of it since she was focused on the feel of Harry’s finger stroking the top of her hand. “How old are you, anyways?” Emma challenged, eliciting a deep sigh from Y/N. “500, give or take,” Harry shrugged casually, causing Y/N to close her eyes for a long moment, waiting for Emma’s response, whatever it may be. She only heard a hum, and opened one eye suspiciously as she waited for more. Nothing more came. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, how could she freak out about the vampire aspect but not the 500 years? “Did you know Elizabeth Bathory? I’ve always been curious about her,” Emma asked, causing Y/N to only scrunch up her nose in confusion. “She was a bitch,” Harry responded, causing Y/N to giggle at his unexpected reaction. This caught the attention of both Harry and Emma. Harry only gave her hand a squeeze, while Emma turned to look at them and smirked. Her eyes ran over their position, Y/N tucked into Harry’s side, hands intertwined and Y/N’s legs folded to her side. Her lips upturned so strongly she could barely contain the teasing smile, before turning to face the tv. It was silent for a few moments, only the narrator’s voice filling the room, before Y/N began to whisper very quietly to Harry. “What did Elizabeth Bathory do to you?” She asked, her voice hushed since she was so close to him. “Also,” She added, “Who is Elizabeth Bathory?” He chuckled, “Ever heard the rumor that vampires bathe in the blood of virgins?” He whispered to her, causing Y/N to blink rapidly. “You don’t, right?” She asked, almost immediately. Harry snorted, “Too sticky,” Y/N smirked, rolling her eyes. “She started that,” He answered. Y/N crinkled her nose in disgust, “That’s a lot of virgin blood,” Harry hummed, “I know, right? It never caught on,” “Should we watch a vampire documentary instead?” Emma interrupted, causing Y/N to flinch since she, quite rudely, forgot she was there. Y/N shook her head with disdain, eyes turning to look at the cute island animals on the screen. “Y/N says no,” Harry remarked, causing the girl in his arms to giggle. Emma stared at them, clearly biting her tongue, “Y/N, pass the macaroons,” She decided to say. Y/N, who had forgotten she had the macaroons, grabbed them from her lap easily and untwined herself from Harry to hand the macaroons to Emma. Emma thanked her, opening the bag as Y/N crawled back to Harry’s side. He wrapped his arm around her again, as he listened to Emma speak. “You know,” She said, mouth full of macaroons, “Y/N can bake,” Y/N groaned, “It’s cookies, not french delicacies,” “I like cookies!” Harry defended. “She’ll have to make some for you,” Emma decided, causing Y/N to roll her eyes. “You’re worse than my mom,” Y/N muttered. Emma giggled and Harry let out a laugh, his fingers running through Y/N’s hair. Y/N sat up, reaching across the couch to Emma, “Give me the macaroons, you don’t deserve them,” Y/N remarked, snatching the bag with hearts on it from her hands. Harry chuckled, watching as Y/N returned to his side of the couch and nibbles on a macaroon. “You’re a child,” He told her fondly. She looked up at him, pouting, which didn’t help her case. “Finally a voice of reason in this house,” Emma muttered. “Now shut up, the polar bears are on,” Somehow, after a full bag of macaroons and several episodes of the documentary, all three ended up asleep on the couch. Y/N was the first to go, cuddled up into Harry’s side, his fingers massaging her scalp, was a sure fire way for her to fall asleep. After teasing Y/N for falling asleep, Emma was gone too, curled up on the couch with her head on the arm of it. Harry, after realizing he was the last one standing, didn’t see the harm in falling asleep as well. He was mighty comfortable, with a cute girl cuddled into his side and keeping him warm, so it wasn’t difficult to nod off, listening the steady beat of Y/N’s heart.

When the three awoke, it wasn’t as peacefully as they had fallen asleep. A loud, and jarring, alarm had caused all three to jolt awake. Y/N groaned in displeasure, stretching her neck as she sleepily sprawled out onto Harry. Emma, who was muttering with annoyance, glared at Harry as he realized the sound was coming from his phone. He cursed, then apologized, as he frantically reached for his phone. He ended the alarm, eyes widening as he saw the label. “Sorry! I have a meeting,” He said, trying to keep his voice hushed since Y/N was still clinging onto him like a small koala. “It’s eight am, dude,” Emma scolded, checking her own phone. “He’s an important vampire,” Y/N mumbled, detaching herself from Harry as he rose from the couch. Harry chuckled, kissing her forehead as he smiled down at her sleepy form. He reached for a blanket that hung over the back of the couch, gently laying it over Y/N. “Nice to meet you, Emma,” Harry whispered, making his way over to the door and sliding on his shoes. “You too,” She mumbled, curling back into the couch. Harry smirked, looking over the two girls who were already back to sleep, as he left through the door.

“Was it a fever dream or did I meet your vampire boyfriend last night?” Y/N, who was still half-asleep, turned to look at Emma, who was on her phone. “Is he gone?” Y/N asked, stretching out on the couch. “Left this morning, you said he was an important vampire,” Emma recalled, making Y/N wince. “Ugh, of course I did,” Emma chuckled, “Want breakfast?” Y/N smiled, “Eggos!” She exclaimed, rising from the couch and prancing into the kitchen. “You really are a child,” Emma remarked, watching her friend, in her too large sweater, stand on the tips of her toes to reach in the freezer. “Huh?” Y/N asked, turning around to look at Emma. Emma just shook her head with a smile, grabbing the empty macaroon bag from the couch before she walked into the kitchen. “Do you think he just had these heart bags or do you think he bought them for you?” Emma asked, examining the valentine’s themed bags. “Probably just had them,” Y/N shrugged, holding the box of eggos in her hands. “I bet he bought some,” Emma mumbled, giving the bag one last look before throwing it away. Y/N ignored her, too focused on unpackaging the eggos and placing them into the toaster. “Hey, you should make him some cookies,” Emma suggested, leaning against the counter as she watched Y/N make the eggos. “Isn’t that overkill?” Y/N asked, staring at the toaster. “He kissed your forehead before he left, I think he’s into you,” Emma remarked. Y/N couldn’t help the smile that rose to her lips, making her look insane as she beamed down at the toaster. “Snickerdoodles?” She asked, reaching for the freshly popped eggos. “Mm, chocolate chip. Simple, yet great,” Emma said tastefully, walking over to Y/N as she grabbed a plate with an eggo in it. Y/N only smiled, “Did he really kiss my forehead?” She asked, biting her lip. Emma rolled her eyes, “Yeah, now eat your waffles, lovebug,”

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, watching Y/N from her perch at the kitchen island. Y/N, with a sharpie in her hand, looked up at Emma with innocent eyes. “Nothing,” She mumbled. “Are you drawing hearts on the baggie?” Emma asked, squinting down at the ziploc bags in front of Y/N. “No,” Y/N said quickly, reaching for the baggie and turning around to hide it in the most obvious way possible. “You’re hopeless,” Emma shook her head, looking back down at her notes. Y/N, who was now working on the opposite counter only smiled softly as she continued to lovingly draw the hearts onto the ziploc bags. “He’s very sweet,” Emma said after a couple of moments of silence. Y/N hummed in agreement, finishing off the hearts on the bags. “He seems to really like you,” Y/N shrugged, grabbing a spatula as she inspected the cooling cookies. “He seems to really, really like you,” She reiterated, making Y/N giggle. “I don’t think he hangs out with humans much,” Y/N said, placing three cookies into each of her four bags. “His teeth are cool,” Emma added. Y/N snorted, “Aren’t they?” She agreed. “Don’t you think it’ll be weird when you kiss?” She asked, writing something down on her paper. “Might be cool,” Y/N shrugged. “Do you think he has a biting kink? Or, like, a blood kink?” Emma gasped, looking up at Y/N with wide eyes. Y/N choked on her spit, holding four bags of cookies in her hands. “Do you?” She asked, eyes wide. “Probably! What if, like, he drinks when he… you know…” Emma said, giving her a knowing tilt of the head. “I don’t wanna think about it,” Y/N shook her head. “But, you are!” Emma protested. “I am,” She conceded. “I bet he’s some sort of sex god,” “Jesus, Emma,” Y/N cursed, running a hand through her hair. “C’mon! You know he’s got princesses under his belt,” Y/N frowned, placing the baggies in her tote, “I don’t want to think about Harry sleeping with princesses,” Emma nodded, “Understandable,” “Are you ever gonna let him drink from you?” Emma asked, climbing down from the island stool as she followed Y/N into her room. Y/N, who threw her tote onto her bed, took off her hoodie easily and shrugged at Emma’s question. “I don’t think he wants to drink from me,” She remarked, grabbing her favorite t-shirt from her closet. Emma, who had sat down on Y/N’s bed, only frowned at her friend, “He stares at you like he wants to eat you up, literally.” Y/N scoffed, exchanging her athletic shorts for some jeans. She reached down, cuffing the bottoms of them as Emma continued to talk, “Just ask him!” Y/N rolled her eyes, “Isn’t drinking from someone intimate?” Emma rose her eyebrows, “Done your research, I see,” Y/N gave her a side eyed glance, rolling her sleeves up. “Listen, wouldn’t you rather it be you than someone else?” She offered. Y/N thought on it, biting her lip, “That isn’t a good reason to do something,” Emma only shrugged, handing Y/N her tote once she had slipped on her shoes. “You have plenty of time to think on it when you walk to his place,” She said simply. Y/N took the tote with a mumbled thanks, throwing the strap over her shoulder. “Go get that vampire dick,” Emma said in all seriousness, causing Y/N to sputter out a cough of surprise. “You’re disgusting,” She countered, walking to the front door as Emma followed. “I’m supportive,” Emma defended, waving her friend goodbye as Y/N left through the front door. Y/N, who was still mildly shocked by Emma’s bluntness was left with a lot to think about as she made the trek to Harry’s house. Emma, while graphic, was right on several points. Such as how Y/N would rather Harry drink from her than from some other girl. It was selfish, sure, but at this point she had a feeling he knew he liked her and if she had to let him drink her blood to be with him than so be it. Maybe she’d even like it. She wondered what her blood would taste like, or if he would like it. He’d said before she smelled sweet, which seemed promising, but did that correlate to tasting sweet? How would she even proposition him biting into her? Would she just have to tilt her neck and look at hm until he got the hint or did they need to have a full discussion? Was there a non-disclosure agreement? Did she need a lawyer? All of these thoughts swirled around her mind as she walked mindlessly to Harry’s place, making her so oblivious that she barely realized she had even arrived. With some rapid blinks, she cleared her mind of previous blood kink thoughts and other vampire related sex subjects, as she reached for the baggies of cookies. She knocked a couple of times on the door, rendering no response. She looked up at the huge house, wondering if he could even hear her knocking if he was on a separate floor. With this in mind, she simply entered the house and made a mental note to tell him to invest in a doorbell. Humming as she walked, she entered the living room and gasped at what she saw. Harry, who was shirtless, had a girl on his lap and his face buried in her neck. Her head was rolled back in bliss, eyes screwed tight. Y/N, who was frozen from fright and also about to throw up, let out a squeak, which would have been a scream if she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out. Harry, who could hear her rapid heartbeat and then her scream, pulled his teeth away from the girl who was atop him and stared with wide eyes at Y/N, who had dropped the cookies she was holding. “I-“ She stuttered, lip quivering as she looked at the scene. “Sorry,” She mumbled, turning on her heel and walking out of the house sluggishly. She felt like she was going to collapse, walking so slow she wondered if she should just get a taxi instead of walk home. A voice stopped her, her feet stopping in her tracks even though she didn’t want them to. “Y/N!” Harry yelled, causing her to turn around and see him in his skinny jeans, tattooed torso revealed and blood on his lips. “You have blood on you,” She said, not wanting to say anything else. “I didn’t think you were coming by,” He remarked, wiping the blood from his lip with his hand. Y/N only stared sadly at him, before turning away. Emma was right. She would much rather it be her than someone else.

Her feet took her all the way to a coffee shop, dragging them against the pavement pathetically as she stared down at her hands for the majority of the walk. She didn’t bother to order anything, only went to a secluded corner and slouched into the booth. With disdain, she realized it was the same booth Harry had made her spill her coffee all over herself. She scrunched up her nose with disgust, letting out a sigh as she pulled out her phone. She saw she had some texts from Emma, but frowned when she saw what they said. Get your blood sucked, girl! She turned her phone off quickly after, throwing it on the table harshly and not even bothering to see if it was cracked. She rested her head against the cold window, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. “You alright?” A familiar deep voice asked her. She opened one eye to see a now dressed Harry staring down at her. He was in a large sweater, with the same jeans she had seen him in last. “Jesus,” She cursed, sitting up as she scowled at him, “Did you follow me here?” “I can smell you, do you not remember anything I tell you?” He smirked, which she returned with a grimace. He didn’t bother to ask as he slid into the seat across from her, his hand reaching for the table menu. She only watched him, with fiercely knitted eyebrows, as he perused the menu. “Want a mocha?” He asked, running his other hand through his tousled hair. She said nothing, only looking at him with the same ferocity. He looked up at her over the menu, frowning. “I didn’t think I’d scared you that much,” He sighed, setting the menu onto the table as he leaned back against the booth. She furrowed her eyebrows, “Scared me?” She repeated. “Yeah, you know…” He said, flashing her his teeth. She only stared at him, blinking slowly as she frowned. “What? You not going to talk to me? I thought we were over you being afraid of me,” He remarked, sounding the most annoyed she’d heard him yet. She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “What?” He challenged, crossing his arms. “I just think it’s… rude,” She said sharply, crossing her arms as well. “What’s rude?” He asked. She huffed, “How you can cuddle with me and then have some other girl on your lap. What if she really likes you? That’s not fair to her,” Harry rose an eyebrow, a confused expression on his face. “What?” He asked, staring at her obliviously. “Emma said you even kissed my forehead! A-And then, you just…” Y/N let out a frustrated sigh, biting her lip to keep from crying. She cries when she’s angry sometimes, but it’s hard to tell if she was about to cry from anger or hurt. “Oh, don’t cry, darling,” Harry said, reaching across the table to try and touch her hand. She pulled away from him, pouting like a child. He looked taken aback, retreating his hand and staring at her warily. “So… You’re not afraid of me?” He asked, eyebrows slightly narrowed. Y/N groaned, looking around the cafe as if she was going to meet eyes with someone who would give her the “What’s up with this guy!” expression. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?” She asked. “So… You are afraid of me?” He tried again. “Jesus Christ, I like you! I was gonna ask you to drink from me!” She nearly exploded, feeling the weight rise from her chest almost instantly. “Woah, what?” Harry asked, leaning back in shock. Y/N let out a small, sadistic laugh, “Silly, right?” She asked, voice breaking slightly. “But I thought…” He trailed off, staring at her with what would best be described as interest. “That I was afraid of you,” She finished easily, staring at him sadly. “Which is really dumb since I literally fell asleep on you last night. Not to mention I wear your stupid hoodie all the time and text you non-stop and look at you like you actually created the universe,” At this point, she was vomiting out confessions of admiration and she was way too distraught to stop herself. If he didn’t like her, so be it. The least she could do is make him feel as guilty as possible. “You like me?” He asked, right as she continued to speak. “I made you fucking cookies! Cookies! I hate baking so much! I only made them because your stupid eyes lit up when Emma mentioned I made cookies. I hand drew hearts onto those bags! Hand drew!” She was near hysterical, not yet crying, but crying would have been better at this point since she looked damn near insane. “I like you too,” Harry said, unbeknownst to Y/N who was still rambling on angrily. “I genuinely can’t believe I have a crush on a vampire. I never even read twilight! You and your dumb beautiful mansion and me and my dumb curiosity- Wait, what?” She stopped herself mid-sentence, running her hand through her wild hair as she stared at him with wide eyes. He was smirking at this point, which only made her blood boil more. “What?” She asked, subconsciously knowing what he said, but logically knowing it couldn’t be true. “Maybe you’re the one who needs to listen,” He teased. “What’d you say?” She asked again, needing confirmation. “Let’s get icecream,” He proposed. “Did you say you liked me?” She inquired, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He was already climbing out of the booth, extending his hand towards her. “Yeah, now c’mon, there’s an icecream parlor like a block away,” He beckoned. She stared at him for a couple of seconds, before biting her lip to keep from smiling. She didn’t take his hand, but she stood from the booth and walked right past him. “Hey!” He called after her, jogging to her as she left the cafe. He caught up with her, walking at her side, “What’s that about?” He asked, sounding annoyed. “You being an asshole,” She explained easily. “That’s not fair! You called me dumb and stupid,” He defended. She tilted her head as a challenge, giving him a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I’m dumb and stupid, but it was uncalled for.” He decided on, making her chuckle. “Do you really hate baking?” He asked curiously. She nodded her head, keeping her gaze forwards. “That’s sweet of you,” He mumbled. “You don’t deserve them anymore,” She remarked easily. “Hey! I have to drink to survive,” He defended himself. She glanced at him, “Shirtless?” He couldn’t seem to meet her eyes, looking ahead as he frowned. “Ok, maybe-“ She gave him another seering look, which made him shut up rather quickly. Y/N entered the icecream shop, holding the door open for him as they made their way in. “Just ask me… next time,” She said, pausing in the middle of her sentence as she tried to piece together the proper wording. “For what?” He asked, staring at her as she examined the ice cream flavors. “When you’re hungry… or thirsty, whatever it’s called,” She shrugged. “Seriously? I thought you-“ He began, being interrupted as Y/N spoke to the worker. “Can I have two scoops of chocolate?” She asked, ignoring Harry as he just stared at her. The man was quick to get her icecream, handing it to her over the counter as she led Harry to a table. She sat down, spooning some chocolate into her mouth as she stared at him. “I thought you were… against being bit,” He said, watching as she slid the icecream over to his side of the table. He took a spoonful, watching as she shrugged, “I’ve always liked biting,” He choked on his icecream, covering his mouth as he coughed. She erupted into giggles, sliding the icecream over to herself and taking another bite. “Who was she, anyways?” Y/N asked curiously, licking her lips. Harry took the icecream cup from her, frowning. “Just a friend,” He said, nonchalantly. Y/N rose an eyebrow, watching as he ate. “She was pretty,” Y/N remarked, taking the spoon from the bowl of icecream which was now placed in the middle of the table for easy access. Harry narrowed his eyes at her, “Why do you wanna talk about her?” Y/N shrugged, “Just interested,” She was swirling the icecream around now. “No, you’re not,” Harry argued. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “Your blood smells sweeter than hers, anyways,” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, looking away from him as she smiled. “What? Thought that was a nice compliment,” He defended, taking a spoonful of ice cream. “You’re just weird,” She shook her head. “Not very nice,” He mumbled, smiling slightly. “Give me some slack. I just saw a girl in your lap like thirty minutes ago,” She said, taking the icecream from him and holding it in her hands. He frowned, “Sorry,” She shrugged, spoon in her mouth, “It’s fine, I’ll just have nightmares for a couple of weeks,” He rolled his eyes, “You’re ridiculous,” She furrowed her eyebrows, “Think you’d like it if I was in some guy’s lap?” He immediately grimaced, “Alright,” He agreed. “Exactly,” She nodded. He was quiet, and she was aswell, still munching on the icecream as she felt his eyes on her. “So, like…” She began, sliding the icecream over to him, “Are you still hungry? Or thirsty, whatever it is,” “You did interrupt me mid-bite,” He muttered, accepting the icecream cup. She narrowed her eyes at him, “So sorry I interrupted your meal time with my freshly baked cookies and heart drawn bags,” “Fair,” He accepted. “You didn’t answer my question,” She said, not looking at him. It was already taking all of her bravery to ask this, she couldn’t dare look him in the eye at the same time. “I’m still sorta hungry, but you don’t have to worry abou- oh!” He exclaimed, widening his eyes. “Oh? I- Really?” He asked, sounding shocked. “I mean… If you want. I took an iron pill this morning, but…” She said sheepishly. “You took an iron pill?” He asked, smiling. She nodded, “Isn’t that supposed to make your blood strong? I don’t know how it affects taste, but maybe it’ll stop me from passing out in your house,” She explained, rambling slightly. He only smiled at her, “That’s adorable,” She blushed, “It’s whatever, I was just… I mean, looking out for my health,” she said, making no sense. He giggled, “Course you were,” “Ready to go, then?” He asked, already standing from the table, empty ice cream cup in hand. She rose from the table, bumping it awkwardly with her hip and wincing at the contact. He coughed, trying to hide his laugh, which caused her to scowl at him. He only smiled, leading the way as he threw the ice cream away and held the door open for her. “Do I need to prepare? And are you gonna take your shirt off again or was that just for her?” She asked, hearing him snort in response. “Would you like my shirt off?” He asked, grabbing her hand suddenly. She didn’t argue, only flinched slightly at the coldness of his hand. “Your tattoos are cool,” She admitted casually. He chuckled, “I’ll take my shirt off if you take yours off,” She scoffed, “Nice try. I thought vampires were supposed to be chivalrous,” “You’re just saying that because I’m old,” He remarked, leading her across the street. She didn’t say anything, only smiled as she looked around the city. “Your hands are warm,” He mumbled, his thumb tracing over her skin. “That’s because you’re undead,” He huffed, “I thought girls were nice to you when they liked you,” “You’ve been with the wrong girls,” He smiled, looking over at her as her hair flew around in the wind, “Definitely,”

“So, is there a special place we have to go?” Y/N asked curiously, standing in the center of Harry’s living room. He had sat down on the couch, looking at her with wide eyes. “Here’s fine,” He shrugged, she eyed him nervously. He didn’t seem too excited. Had she been pushing him? Or was he just acting cool? “Are you ok with this?” He asked, sounding a bit shaky himself. She frowned, wondering if he was looking for a way out. She glanced around the room, trying to find somewhere to focus on that wasn’t his big green eyes. She decided on the bookcase diagonal to her. “I mean… I’m good with it if you are,” She said, twiddling her thumbs as she tried to not come across as too eager. “Course I’m ok with it,” He said in a teasing tone. She giggled nervously, looking around one more time before she sat down next to him on the couch. “What if… My blood is gross?” She asked randomly, hearing him snort. “Doubt it will be, love,” He remarked, his head tilted to the side to look at her as she looked straight ahead at his mantleplace, wringing her hands in her lap. “Should I-?” She asked, looking towards his lap and then to his eyes, silently asking if that’s where she needed to be. “Oh, no. You’re gonna be dizzy,” He said, quickly moving so that he was straddling her lap. She gasped, pushing herself back into the couch and looking anywhere but at him. Her hands lay weakly at her sides, heart racing a million miles a minute as she felt his thighs on either side of her. “Just breathe. I won’t hurt you,” He comforted her, reaching for her hand. She gave it to him, praying that it wasn’t noticeably shaking as bad as she thought it was. His cold hand and cold ring covered fingers contrasted to her sweaty hands perfectly. He leaned down towards her neck, so close that she could feel his warm breath. She swallowed nervously, finally looking down to see the top of his head, brown curls swirled atop it. “Squeeze my hand if it hurts. Shouldn’t be worse than a shot,” He muttered quietly, looking up at her briefly to see her wide eyes and slightly parted lips. “You sure you’re ok?” He asked once more, thumb caressing the soft skin of her hand. She nodded quickly, staring at him unblinkingly. “You’re breathing really fast, we don’t have to if-“ He began to speak rapidly, grabbing onto her other hand and lacing his fingers with hers. “No, I mean- Do you want to?” She asked, heart rattling in her chest as she worried that he didn’t even want to do this in the first place. He’d already told her yes, but maybe he was having second thoughts. “Well, yeah, but-“ He began, being interrupted again. “Then, yeah, I want to,” She said with a firm nod. He continued to look into her eyes, narrowing his own with uncertainty, “I don’t wanna force you to-“ “Just fucking bite me, Harry,” She sighed, eyes widening to the size of golf balls afterwards. Maybe not the best thing to say. He only chuckled, “Alright, alright,” With that, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, right under her jaw. She tried to even out her breathing and relax, leaning her head against the couch as she closed her eyes instead of staring up at the ceiling with buggish eyes. He continued to gently kiss on her skin, his lips soft and warm from touching her own flesh. She had finally started to relax, actually enjoying the feeling of his lips attached to her neck. So relaxed, that her hands had even stopped shaking and she was breathing evenly. Her relaxation didn’t last long, because before she knew it, she felt a sharp pain right where she had previously felt soft kisses. She gasped, her eyes opening suddenly and her body flinching instinctively. Harry’s hand gave her hand a squeeze in comfort, humming to her slightly. Her body tensed, taking in the odd sensation of his cold teeth and the blood leaving her body. Slowly, she began to feel very floaty, as if she was about to fall asleep. Her head lulled to the side, lips parted as she breathed in and out deeply. Before she had time to notice, her head feeling cloudy, Harry had already pulled away from her neck and placed a warm kiss to her cheek. She opened her eyes slightly, feeling the weight of her eyelids against her eyes. “Wasn’t too bad, right?” He asked, licking some excess blood from his lips. She stared at him dreamily, “S’fine,” She slurred. He smiled down at her, hand reaching up to push some of her hair behind her ear. Y/N continued to look up at him, admiring the stray curl that fell down onto her forehead. “Was my blood good?” She asked droopily. Harry giggled, still playing with strands of her hair. “Very good,” He confirmed, smiling brightly, fangs on full display. The glint of them caught her eye, tilting her head slightly as she stared. “Do they bother you?” She asked curiously, eyeing them with interest. He shook his head, “They’re not sharp,” He explained, “Wanna feel?” She nodded much too quick, already raising her hand and extending it to his open mouth. He giggled, watching as she stared at him with such interest. Her finger gently ran over the sharp tooth, humming with interest. “Cool,” She mumbled lamely, pulling her hand back as he chuckled. Almost as soon as she had retracted her hand, he wrapped his arms around her, putting his head on her shoulder as he hugged her. She made a huffing noise, not displeased, just surprised, as she slowly wrapped her arms around him aswell. It was silent for a couple of moments spare their breathing, until Y/N spoke up. “Uh… Whenever you… Need to… Do that… again… Just call me, or whatever,” She said without a single ounce of confidence. She nearly rolled her eyes at herself when she heard her own voice. Despite her lack of sureness, he hummed anyways, placing a kiss to her neck once more before resting his head down again. She bit her lip to keep from smiling, gingerly moving her hand from his back to run her fingers through his curls. Once she did, fingernails gently running against his scalp as she allowed his soft hair to run through her fingers, he sighed contently. He mumbled something against her neck, causing her to hum in inquiry. He turned his head, allowing himself to speak instead of his words being blocked by her skin. “Do you wanna go out?” He asked, causing her to furrow her eyebrows with confusion. “With me?” He added on to clarify. “Like a date?” She asked, a smile already reaching her lips. He nodded against her. She let out a small laugh, “Yeah, of course,” She could feel his smile against her skin. She continued to play with his hair, a smile on her face as she looked up at the ancient ceiling. She couldn’t wait to tell Emma, she’d done way more than get her blood sucked. She was beyond relaxed, finally not feeling so doozy as she just hugged Harry contently and played with his soft curls. Harry had other ideas, jumping from her lap and straightening his sweater once he rose to his feet. She looked at him curiously, staring up at him as he smiled softly. “What are you doing?” She asked curiously, hand going to her neck to feel the wetness of her own blood. She frowned, looking down at her stained finger. He didn’t seem to notice, too busy smiling and running his ring covered hands through his hair. “We’re going on a date, right?” He asked excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Y/N bit her lip to keep from smiling like a maniac as she stood slowly, “Right now?” She asked. He nodded vigorously, “There’s a great burger place and I think you’ll like their milkshakes. I was just there a couple of days ago and the neon lights remind of you,” He spoke rather fast, her heart swelling dangerously in her chest as she stared at him with what had to be the most sickeningly sweet gaze. She didn’t bother to ask how neon lights possibly made him think of her, only being able to stare at him fondly and smile wide. She was about to take a hold of his arm and have him lead her to the burger place, but she felt a surge of pain in her neck which made her falter. “Can I get a bandaid first?”

“Are you feeling alright?” Harry asked, for possibly the tenth time since they had started walking. She hummed out a yes, not even bothering to say anything like she had the first five times. They’d been walking for only a short amount of time, Harry leading the way and tightly gripping her hand in his. “It’s just… Heart’s beating pretty fast,” He explained, causing her to let out a huff. “That’s not fair,” She muttered with annoyance. “What’s not fair?” He asked curiously, thumb caressing over the skin of her hand gently. “You always know how fast my heart is beating or if I’m nervous and I can never tell with you,” She shrugged, looking down at her feet as Harry smiled softly at her. He giggled, which turned into a more deep laughter which caused her to stare at him curiously. “What?” She asked, looking at him with a confused glance. He settled down rather quickly, a smile still on his lips, “I don’t have a heartbeat, love,” She gasped shortly, eyes widening at her mistake. He only giggled again at her reaction, giving her hand a squeeze. “I don’t know anything about vampires,” She admitted with an ounce of shame. He chuckled, “S’alright, love. I’ll answer any question you got,” He told her comfortingly. She smiled, catching sight of the old timey diner a block away. Harry must have caught her looking, because he piped up, “Nice, isn’t it? Reminds me of the fifties,” He remarked, looking fondly at the place. She hummed in agreement, “Where were you in the fifties?” She asked curiously. “Paris,” He responded easily, tugging her arm to walk faster across the street. “Is it nice there?” She questioned, practically jogging to keep up with him as they approached the diner. “It’s beautiful. I’ll take you sometime,” He said casually, opening the door to the diner. She almost laughed, but when she looked over at him with a smile, he looked completely serious. “Would like that,” She said, trying to act as serious as he was but finding the proposition difficult. “Harry!” A voice called out, which caused both of their heads to turn towards it’s direction. Harry, who had smiled brightly and seemed to be familiar with the tone was a stark opposite from Y/N, who had widened her eyes in surprise. “Oh, you’ve brought a girl!” An older lady was revealed from behind the counter, sporting a poofy and very on-brand 50s skirt. “This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her, since Y/N was staring curiously at the woman. She gave her a kind smile and a small wave as the woman positively beamed back. “I’m Edith. Harry never brings girls back! He’s such a handsome boy I was starting to get worried,” Edith remarked, which made Y/N giggle. Harry seemed unbothered, only focusing on pulling Y/N to sit next to him on the same side of the booth. Y/N gave him an odd look, never having been a girl to share the same side of a booth with a date. He looked very pleased to have her right next to him, instantly throwing an arm over her shoulders as he stared fondly over at Edith. She wondered if it was just for show, but the way his fingers played with the ends of her hair she had an inkling of a feeling that it may just have been him wanting to be close to her, which made her heart swell. “No need to be worried,” Harry said easily, a strand of Y/N’s hair wrapped around his finger. She giggled, turning to smile at him as she leaned into his side. Edith smiled at the both of them sweetly, “I can see that,” She proceeded to pull out two menus, handing them to Y/N and Harry, smiling kindly as she listed off some specials and then left them to decide on their meals. Y/N reached for her menu, opening it and perusing it curiously. Harry, who had left his menu on the table, was looking at Y/N’s instead, leaning in closer to her. She smiled, trying to ignore his presence and the scent of his cologne as she focused on what item she should get. “Should I get breakfast? Or a burger?” She asked, glancing at Harry to see he was already staring at her. “What?” She asked, her cheeks already turning a light shade of pink. “Just really pretty,” He complimented honestly, not taking his eyes off of her. She blushed deeply, looking back at the menu. “Think I’m gonna get a burger,” She said, ignoring his compliment, but keeping a smug smile on her face. “Gotta try the milkshake,” He added, pointing to the pictures of them on the menu. She nodded, “What are you gonna get?” “Same thing I always get, a burger and some fries,” He answered easily. “Do you come here a lot?” She asked with interest, setting the menu down as she turned to look at him. “S’my spot,” He said fondly, looking around the restaurant. She smiled, honored that he’d take her here. “Why’d you bring me here?” She asked, not being able to help herself as she shamelessly stared at him since he was doing so to her earlier. “Told you, it reminds me of you,” He said, repeating himself from earlier. She had in fact remembered, she was just painfully nosy. She just stared at him, waiting for him to explain. He gave her a smirk, “S’warm and smells nice. Just like you,” She blushed, looking down at her clasped hands on the table. “Tastes good too,” He added, burrowing his face in the crook of her neck, kissing over the bandaid which covered her bite mark. She gasped, playfully shoving him away as he only attached himself more by wrapping his arms around her possessively. She giggled, letting him hug her and place kisses on her cheeks and neck. Edith, who was smiling as bright as the sun, walked up the table, which only made Y/N blush and try and push Harry away. He kept his arms around her anyway, only looking up at Edith with a boyish grin. Y/N couldn’t meet her eyes, instead putting her hand over Harry’s hand which was on her waist. She played with the cold rings on his cold fingers and listened to him order for the both of them. Edith didn’t seem to mind or think she was rude, which Y/N was afraid of, instead only glancing at the girl and smiling just as bright as she had Harry. “You’re a shy little thing,” Harry remarked almost as soon as Edith had turned away. Y/N blushed yet again, twisting a rose decorated ring on his finger, “And you’re touchy,” She remarked, just as he had placed another kiss to her pink cheek. He scoffed, “You’re playing with my fingers,” He observed. She shrugged, glancing at his eyes, “Want me to stop?” He shook his head immediately, looking down at where she continued to twist and caress the rings decorating his thin fingers. “Where’d you get this one from?” She asked curiously, tips of her fingers running over the intricate detailing of the rose ring. “1700s Italy,” He responded easily, making her hum with interest. “Very pretty,” She complimented, giving it one last twist on his finger before moving to the next ring. “You’re very pretty,” He fired back, causing her to bite her lip to keep from smiling too wide. “Stop,” She mumbled, giving his finger a tug as punishment. He only smirked, staring down at her fondly, “So pretty, could kiss you all over,” Y/N gasped, ceasing her petting of his fingers to give him a stern look. He only smiled, thinking how she looked very much like a disgruntled kitten with her nose all scrunched up. “Would you let me kiss you?” He asked, sounding curious as she took a quick look around the diner. It was empty, save for an old couple on the opposite end of the room and Edith was nowhere to be seen. Y/N shrugged, “Suppose,” Harry smiled brightly, moving one of his hands so it could cradle the back of her head. She was already blushing so hard it felt like her cheeks were on fire, but the heat in her face was forgotten once Harry led her lips to his. She had gasped, her grip on his hand tightening as she felt him smirk through the kiss. His lips were soft, a bit cold, but nice overall, and when he pulled away she was tempted to ask for another. “Taste like bubblegum,” He remarked, licking his pink lips as she stared at him, entranced. “That’s my toothpaste,” She said, making him giggle. She licked her own lips, watching as his eyes watched her. “You taste like metal,” She told him. He smirked, “That’s your blood,” She scrunched up her nose, sticking her tongue out briefly in disgust. He laughed loudly, pressing a kiss to her temple as he pulled her more firmly into his side. “Haven’t been on a date in nearly fifty years,” He muttered casually, making her gasp. “Fifty years?” She asked, hushing her voice but still letting the shock float into her tone. “No need t’ make fun of me for it,” He said, sounding somewhat teasing but not enough for her to not feel guilty. “Sorry…” She muttered, “Just not used to you saying stuff like that since you look my age,” He didn’t seem to mind, or at least didn’t say anything as he changed the subject. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…” He trailed off, causing her mind to wander to millions of possibilities, each one making her more nervous than the last. She just looked at him, wide-eyed, waiting for him to continue. “Have you always been into older men?” He snorted at his own joke, while she rolled her eyes, holding in her own smile as he positively snickered at his humor. “You’re an idiot,” She told him firmly, feeling him press a kiss to her cheek. “And your lips are cold,” She added, giving him a playful shove. “Gotta warm ‘em up then, love,” He told her, puckering his lips as she turned to smile at him. She stared at him fondly, taking in his curled hair and pale cheeks along with his pink, puckered lips and closed eyes. He really was a weird vampire. But, he was her vampire and she certainly didn’t mind it.